Unarmored
by xfucktheglasses
Summary: They do not know each other but, with his hand slipping into hers, she whispers, "Finally." / SasuSaku. Soulmates AU.
1. Errands

**1**

..

"Here," says the old lady just as she places a small burlap sack onto his gloved palm. "Fifteen silver moons and seven gold suns, as promised."

Sasuke hums and looks at the sack from under his eyelashes, bringing his hand close and untying the stiff white yarn securing the coins inside. He looks up at the old crone, the way she smokes out of her handmade wooden pipe and expectantly awaits for her prize, hands behind her back. Sasuke kicks the harpy towards her, ignoring the screeches of obscenities aimed in his direction.

The old hag looks down at her for a second before she stares up at them for a moment, her eyes, hidden under wrinkles, glazed and almost curious. "You boys aren't hurt are you?"

"No harpies can hurt us, gramma," Naruto croons, grinning at her with his sharp teeth all out on display. His scratches speak differently. They're all healed up but even all the wonders his other half brings can't get rid of the marks that stay behind on his skin.

"Fascinating how he is quick to speak," Sai comments, catching the sack of coins Sasuke tosses him. "When the harpy was so infatuated with him."

"It was his tail," Sasuke drawls, flapping a hand in Naruto's general direction. "Even harpies have better taste than mongrels like—"

" _Hey_! Listen, if it weren't for my charm an' manly scent—" Naruto blinks his bright blue eyes, lips puckered up and his previous argument suddenly dropped and forgotten. "Oh right. Hey, gramma, wha's an old lady like you gonna do with a harpy anyway?"

Sasuke scoffs and turns his back to the group and the tree house, lifting a hand to adjust the harness of his shoulder armor. "That is not our problem, _moron_."

"Where are you heading to now?" she asks, taking her pipe out her mouth and inspecting it as if it were the first time she saw it and not the thousandth.

Sasuke stares up at the sky for a brief moment, his eye narrowed, scowl setting into place. He spares her a glance from over his shoulder. She watches them, her gaze calm and ancient; only a witch would be daring enough to live amongst the trees.

"That is not of your concern either," he tells her.

She laughs, the wind caressing her white hair, coaxing some of the strands out of the neat bun. "You Fire Breathers and your temper. I am merely curious to see if my warning will mean anything or if it will be for naught!"

"Warning?" Sai asks, arms crossed, head tilted. Under the sun, his white skin looks almost translucent and in its translucency the blackness of the ink inside him is almost visible. "What warning?"

Yelping and snatching his orange fox tail and holding it close to his person, Naruto scurries further away from the harpy and her red, preying eyes.

"While you boys were off finding my harpy, I went down to the nearest village for some supplies." She puffs on her pipe, nudges her head to the side as if to explain the direction she'd been off to. "I heard talk about a girl burning villages."

"There is always some radical lunatic doing things of the sort," Sasuke comments, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "It is nothing new or disconcerting. I think we will be fine."

Sasuke begins to walk away, the grass crunching under his boots, dead despite its vibrant green coloring if only because of some spell the witch has cast to keep the greenery from craving to devour flesh and soak in blood.

"That may be so, boy," she says and Sasuke's steaming blood steams all the more at the name. "But this fire is black."

She does not elaborate.

Of course she does not. It takes so much restraint to keep from whirling around to face her, but Sasuke controls himself and only slowly turns around when he finds the willpower to remain reserved.

"Oh?" he asks, head tilting to the side to seem innocent and genuinely curious.

"It is why I am warning you three," says the witch, kicking the harpy that's begun to laugh. "Quiet you! Have you no manners!" She turns back to them. "Black flames are far dangerous, touched by the Sorcerer Indra, son of the Creator of all Magic, Hagoromo."

Sasuke clenches his jaw taut and stares at her for a second, grabbing Naruto by the back of his long, leather coat and pulling him along with him. "We are leaving."

"Thank you for your information, Chiyo," Sai says as he brings up the rear of their hasty retreat. "And for your hospitality."

.

They walk in silence for a long moment, their strides long and fast. It isn't too clear up to where Chiyo's grasp on the shrubbery reaches and with so much time wasted on such small talk, they only have so much of it left to travel and find shelter before the sun sets and the moon rises, leaving room for darkness and shadows and the trees to hunt.

Still, their limbs ache from their brief battle against the harpy. Quick as it was due to her inexperience, she still managed to harm them despite her young age. That's the thing about the race of harpies; they look the same regardless if they are one hundred or one thousand years old.

Sasuke scowls as he rubs at a tender spot on his chest where the harpy had attempted to sink one of her sharp claws, cooing at his handsome features as she did so.

"So," Naruto drawls, noncommittally observing his disgustingly long, thick claw for nails. "Wha's the plan?"

Sasuke looks up from his mild observations of the grass. They seem to be looping themselves around his boots already, trying to find a way to keep him in place but being far too weak to do anything from having him walk away.

Naruto picks at his nails and Sai adjusts his leather bracers, sparing him casual glances, waiting to hear whatever is on his mind. And there seems to be something on his mind—and they know that.

Sasuke lifts a hand to scratch at the skin under the leather eye-patch covering his left eye. "We are going to find this presumed girl summoning Black Flames."

"And?" Sai asks, an eyebrow raised in question.

Sasuke smirks.

.

It is far too loud.

Vendors call out sweet promises, quick and beautiful descriptions of their products and the generous price to match. Along this, the shrilly shrieks of laughter of children zigzagging through the cobblestoned streets is throbbing.

The buzz of villagers speaking all at once is pulsing.

It is far too loud.

Sakura hides further into her cloak. Her breathing is picking up, her chest rising and falling quickly under her trembling hand holding onto the clasp of her cloak as a means for stability. She stares with wide, wild mismatched eyes at the people surrounding her, rushing by, indifferent to her hunched form.

She swallows, clamping her mouth shut and forcing her breathing to even out. She looks up at the sky. It's gray and growing dark with rain clouds, the breeze strong, and the rumble of thunder in the distance promising.

Sakura wraps her cloak tighter around herself, spares herself a glance at a shop's glass window. She is but a ghost of her former self: bags under her different colored eyes, pale skin all the paler… Her stomach rumbles and she wonders when she's eaten last, if rest has been such an impossibility.

She groans at the slight probing at her memories. She can still hear the yelling; they all mix with the present. The yells of the vendors, the squeals of the children, the villagers—they all blend with the piercing screams of before. The heavy stench of charring skin, dead eyes staring right at her.

Anxiety pops into life under her skin, like ants moving back and forth, burying under her veins and in between her bones. Paranoia fills her chest cavities, swelling so its hard for her heart to beat, pump blood.

Bubbles pop in her vision.

It is far too loud.

The vendors' coaxes and children's chortles and the screams of agony—they are all mixed into one.

"Stop," she whispers, rapidly blinking her eyes. "Please stop."

There is a familiar pressure on her left one, the darker one, the one she cannot control. It feels as if it sinks into her skull, the veins inside all on fire. She feels it tear up unwillingly, thick and sticky.

Blood.

"No," she pleads helplessly.

"Miss? Miss are you all right?"

Sakura lifts her head up, her eyes wide, the blood on her left eye leaking down her cheek. The little girl stares at her for a second before she gasps.

Everything is much clearer through her left eye—she can see every individual eyelash on the little girl, can see, can count the freckles on her cheeks, can see the scabs of a healed wound under her forelocks.

She manages to mouth, "Get away" before the flames come.

The flames always come after the clearness, after the blood.

It is as it always is.

They burst into life with deafening energy, scorching heat blasting steaming air back towards her; unable to hurt her for she is their unwilling summoner. The pitch black flames begin to devour anything and everything in sight upon revival, leaving nothing in their wake, lifting the stench of searing flesh and bones and the deconstruction of another village in their wake.

"No," Sakura sobs, nails digging into her scalp, pink hair sticking to her bloodied cheek. She's done it again—another village, another hundreds of people to die in flames she's unable to control.

It is far too quiet.

..

 **notes:** hi


	2. Do you believe in Magic?

**2**

..

The first thing she feels is pain. The kind that is difficult to pinpoint because it echoes, rings, vibrates. Duplicates itself until she feels it all over her body—a pain so cold, so hot. It burns, it numbs.

Heaviness is the second thing that roots her back into reality, forces her away from the liberating emptiness of unconsciousness. Her head feels terrible, her eyelids are screwed shut. Breathing is hard because her chest weighs down on her lungs despite their desperation to expand with air.

Sakura groans, feels her expression twist into a grimace and a shallow pain jolts from her jaw. Something, she fuzzily notices, prevents too much movement from the left side of her face.

Slowly, she forces her eyes open…

A woman stands in front of her, hovers above her; long, pale blond hair curtaining them. It distracts her from paying attention to how limited her vision seems to be.

"You are finally awake," the woman says, a smile on her lips and her pupilless gray-blue eyes on her.

Sakura grows stiff, mouth clamped shut as she tries to look at her surroundings, gather where she is and make an attempt to look for an escape.

"Oh, please," the woman scoffs, pulling away. She places her hands on her hips, pale markings on her peach skin suddenly clear and visible as she takes a few steps back, stands in the middle of the hut with candle light around her. "Believe me, if I would have wanted to harm you, I would have done so while you slept."

A chilling sensation passes through her despite suspecting the woman adds no threat to her words. She looks some kind of calm; disinterested, if only because Sakura continues to fear for her life. When it comes to her wellbeing, the woman had already shown interest and even minor concern.

"W-won't that be cowardly?" she manages to ask. A means of distraction to comfort her racing heart. She lifts a heavy hand and follows the edges of the wrappings and carefully folded cloth covering her left eye, fingers shaking.

"Oh!" The woman barks a laugh, her grin sharp. "So there is some fight in you, pretty Untouched. I figured since you had deliberately ran into a forest of vines, you wished to part from the realm of living."

"I… _What_?"

She tilts her head, her long, pale hair swaying with her movements, caressing her bare arms, falling over her shoulders and curving to follow the length of her body. "Do you mean to tell me you do not remember?"

"I… No. No I don't. I… The village…?"

"Are you a survivor?" Her brow furrows but even as her skin wrinkles with her worry and gravity, the pale markings on her skin remains pristine. "That explains a lot… I am sorry for your loss—"

Sakura grows quiet, a sinking feeling in her stomach weighing her down. She wishes to disappear in that moment, the awfulness bubbling inside her far too sticky and infective. She shifts on her makeshift bed, the soft hay and sheets rustling under her weight.

She is not wrong, her mind tries to reason. She has lost, and she is a survivor.

But it is, like the villages burning in her wake, her own doing. Her home, too, burns and her people, too, have perished. And it is, too, all her fault.

"What is your name?" the woman asks, suddenly near, a hollow and empty fruit shell in her hands. Inside is some sort of liquid. Herbal; medicinal.

"It is common courtesy to introduce oneself," Sakura says, taking the cup, inhaling the steam. She closes her eye. "But you have saved me and I am grateful. And well aware of my position here. My name is Sakura."

"Seedling," the woman says, watching her.

"Pardon?"

"I am Ino," she says, placing a hand against her chest. "You are a seedling."

"I do not think I follow."

Ino gives her a quiet smile. "Tell me, seedling, what is the real truth here?"

Sakura stares at her, lips parted and the fruit shell filled with medicine cradled in between her hands. Her heart begins to race again, her limp pink hair falling around her in knotty waves. "I do not…"

"I believe you are not from around these lands," Ino says calmly, her lips curved in a smile of amusement, her depthless eyes unwavering. "If you were, you would know better than to lie to a Mindwalker."

"M-Mindwalker…?"

"My!" Ino laughs, soft, sharp, like wind chimes. "You do not even know of my people!"

Sakura lowers her eye, stares down at the stiff sheet that covers her legs. It's stained with most of the blood, pale and pinkish as it had mixed with water or perhaps even sweat. There are other stains, those of what she believes to be of salves and other ointments that Ino had used to heal whatever else the vines had manages to do to her.

Mindwalkers…

They sound so immaculate. True, her knowledge of the other races is limited since where she is from lives none other than the Untouched and her own race wanted nothing to do with those that have been touched by the will of Hagoromo.

She observes the hut, the staff by the door and the basin at the center of an unstable table at the center. There are books with yellowed pages, so old that they seem to be falling apart. Jewels hang from a yellowed, dead vine, hanging in a position so the sun hits it as it rises and sets as it does now, letting the room glow a soft shade of amethyst.

"I come from the East," she murmurs. She sets the medicine down in between her legs in favor of drying her sweaty hands on the sheets. "From Uzushiogakure, the largest island of the archipelago of the Untouched."

"The race of Man," Ino comments, pressing her thumb against her lower lip. "No magic in their veins but have been gifted with the ability to live long, fulfilling lives."

Sakura bites the inside of her cheek. "More than half of my people have died by those Black Flames… I fear they have spread… And if they have, then, I may be the only one left…"

"You get used to it," Ino says.

"How can you say that?" Sakura asks, cheeks burning and voice thick.

"I am the last of my kind as well," Ino says. "Mindwalkers have been gone for a long, long time. My father died recently, leaving me to be the last Mindwalker to exist. And once I die, we will be no more. You get used to it."

Sakura shakes her head. "You people and your magic…" she clenches her eye shut. "Do you feel nothing for death? Do you fear nothing at all?"

Ino does not answer for a long time and Sakura is both furious and afraid to look up to see what she is doing. She is surprised when she feels the hay underneath her shift and she watches with wide eyes as the half-abandoned fruit shell is picked up from her lap and guided to her lips.

"Tell me, seedling," Ino says, and Sakura stares into her eyes. "And the question requires truth for it is one thing to see it, and another to have faith in it."

Sakura accepts the fruit shell back into her hands and Ino tilts her head. The runes on her skin, she wonders, could it be a part of the Mindwalkers? For what?

In any way, she considers, Ino is so beautiful. Intimidating not just by her looks but also with the promise of something otherly. Knowledgeable and present but also absent both at once. Like her gaze, so fixated on her, glossy, with a ring of darker blue around the outside of her irises.

"What is it?" she asks, her voice but an exhalation and the movement of her lips.

"Do you believe in magic?"

.

The village is a disaster.

Black flames still dance possessively around the perimeter of what should be the entire town, eating what no longer is there, nesting itself. Claiming.

The townhouses have collapsed into themselves; crumbled to the ground and crushing whatever the Flames hadn't had the chance to burn. And even then, Sasuke knows, the fire is powerful enough to eat it all. Eat every single brick, every concrete wall and every single splintered wood.

Black Fire leaves nothing in its wake. This village is close to disappearing out of existence, until nothing but soot and ash will remain to tell the story of what once was.

Sasuke steps forward, swallowing thickly as he observes, his eye narrowed and his head ducked low. He pauses for a second, staring down at a body that continues to burn despite the Fire that'd ignited it moving on to something else. Its skin is raw, red with blood and flesh charred black. And it continues to burn, will continue to burn until it all melts right off the bone.

He moves away, his steps just a bit slower, heavier. Some bodies, he is quick to notice as he moves deeper into the inferno, are nothing _but_ bones.

"How do we stop 'em?" Naruto asks, his voice thick and raspy.

Sasuke crouches down and pokes at another body, wrinkles his nose at the small pieces of flesh stringing around the cracked bones. "We do not."

" _What_?" Naruto clears his throat, pressing the crook of his elbow against his sensitive nose. "Why the hell not?"

"We are not able to," Sasuke elaborates, standing back to his full height and wiping his finger against his pants. "Black Fire cannot be stopped by anyone other than the person that has summoned them. They are loyal to their master."

"They are alive?" Sai asks, appearing to his other side.

"Yes."

Naruto stares at him with narrowed eyes, glassy for the smoke and Fire is heavier the further in they move. "How d'ya know all this, anyway?"

"Fire Breathers know the history of the Flames being fanned within them," Sasuke states. He waves a hand in the air when the ash becomes too much even for him. Shaking his head he turns to his companions. "Let us split up, see if we find anything of value."

"Survivors?" Sai asks. His eyes have gone completely black with Ink.

Sasuke pauses for a second. Then, "End their misery, if you must."

Once alone, Sasuke walks with a slow pace, his lips pressed together as he tallies up the amount of scorched corpses he passes. He even walks by what isn't a body any longer but recognized as such by the way the ash is aligned.

As he moves, slow as he does, the Black Flames lick and snap in his direction. Crackle as if furious at his presence. Or perhaps demanding his attention. They grow angry, hotter, larger—calling him with their sizzle, wishing to engulf and eat him whole.

But that is the thing about Black Fire. It eats what it is commanded to eat, what is present during the command. Anything new that arrives while it is wrecking havoc cannot be touched until ordered to.

There is no one to order these Flames.

Sasuke watches them dance; stretch as close as they can towards him, as distracted from his tasks as they are from theirs. His mind grows muddy, hazy; he's inhaled too much smog, perhaps.

Except smog does not bother him, does it? Not when his heart is fire itself. Not when he is always burning.

He can't… even seem to remember this without running into trouble. Without forgetting. The Fire is too alluring. Too distracting.

He stares unblinkingly, his work forgotten. His very name suddenly a mystery.

It's unimportant, he thinks. None of it matters. Not like the unbearable heat of these Flames. Not like the destruction they promise. Not like the desire they emit, the yearning, the plea in their pop for him to come closer.

It pulls at him. Causes the fuel at the very center of his chest to burn, the magma to bubble and pop and boil. Travel up his throat, a soothing and demanding burn so familiar yet so foreign as it settles in the burnt carvings of his windpipe and out his mouth.

Sasuke exhales smoke through his nose, parts his lips to let it out like a thick hiss. His chest starts to burn; his stomach feels like it's on fire. Suddenly he's very aware he's a man made of flames; a walking inferno.

And yet it does not hurt.

He is a Fire Breather. A man made of fire. The flames he keeps dormant inside him are reacting to the greater Flames before him. This Black Fire; fire touched by the Sorcerer Indra. A gift for his followers, for those that believed, accepted and followed his will.

For his descendants. Those that came to be known as Fire Breathers.

But the ability to carry Black Fire is nearly unheard of.

It has to be, since Sasuke has been the only Fire Breather for sixteen years and _he_ has no fire as powerful as this, strong as his own flames are.

He doesn't realize when he's come to stand so close to them, when he's lifted a hand with the intentions to stroke the untamed Flames. His mind has grown blank, his eye glazed over. He feels like he's encountered Black Fire before, long ago… He can't remember… Did he react like this…? He can't… Remember…

"Yo, Sasuke!"

His breathing is growing fast, hard. Closer… So much… Closer…

" _Sasuke_!"

He stops inches away from the Fire, blinks out of his trance and drops his hand. His head pounds and he hears every single drum-like noise resonate in his ears. He waits a moment to gather himself before he turns to face Naruto, his eye wide, his mouth dry.

"What?" he asks, taking in his soot-smudged clothes.

"No survivors," Naruto says, looking at him with a heavy stare. His blue eyes have grown darker, as if sensing danger. "Nothin' worth takin', either. No money, no food, _nothin'_. It's all in shambles."

Swallowing, Sasuke turns back to the Flames for a second longer before he moves away completely. He exhales smog, nose wrinkled at the disgusting aftertaste. "Then let us leave. We have wasted enough time as it is. If we move fast enough, we can make it to the next village before nightfall."

.

"It all began with a tree. I jest you not." Ino sits across from her, a small cup of soup in front of her. Unlike Sakura's, hers goes untouched.

Sakura does not remember when the last time she's had a proper meal has been. The soup is very much welcomed. A part of her knows that if she doesn't slow down she is going to want to give it all back up but one spoonful after another—she seems to just grow greedier.

"Seven thousand years ago, there was a tree harvested by a goddess. This tree gave bloom to Hagoromo, the Creator of Magic, and Hamura, the First Untouched. These two were brothers and Hagoromo, it is said, was as much an Untouched as his brother Hamura. The difference between them was that Hagoromo believed in Magic. Hamura did not.

"With his purity and his belief, Hagoromo began to mold the first possibilities of Magic but it was not until he broke off one of his horns, ground it into dust and dispensed it across these barren lands that magic came to be."

Sakura tilts her head, pushing her empty bowl of soup aside. "What about his brother Hamura?"

Ino smiles and slides her bowl of soup to her. "Hamura showed no interest in his brother's endeavors and wished to live a calm, peaceful life seeking meaning. Whatever that is.

"Meanwhile, after spreading magic across these lands with one of his horns, he took the other and broke it in half. This is how he came to have two sons. The Great Sorcerers known as Indra and Ashura. Like with his first horn, he transferred his purity and magic to the horns that were to be his sons and then with his magic, he willed them to form.

"But what Hagoromo failed to understand was that where there was purity, there was corruption. He transferred his purity to his sons but his eldest son, the Sorcerer Indra, fell to corruption."

"How?" Sakura asks, her green eye wide and her cheeks as pink as her hair.

"He was powerful and gifted. A prodigy through and through. He felt he deserved more than what his father had given him and that pure magic was too restricted. He filled with greed. With hate. He wished to rule with fear, with darkness."

"A-and Ashura?"

"Ashura carried his father's will. He wanted to pass down his knowledge to other cultures, use his superior magic and help others. It is because of this massive difference between the two brothers that there was no fate as ill as one of battle."

Ino leans closer, her depthless eyes practically glowing under the candlelight. "Raw power and no restrictions. This is how it ended between the two and their fight destroyed much of what they had once built together, their bodies being one of the many casualties.

"This is how the Land of Six Paths and all the races came to be. By what Indra and Ashura left behind: their wills and their magic. Hagoromo was distraught at his loss and much how he had spread magic with the dust of his crushed horn, he spread the magic of his sons' remnants and the Mindwalkers, the Fire Breathers, the Ink Bearers, the Tamers and so much more were born."

Sakura feels something in her chest, never knowing anything of this sort. What _did_ she know? Her life before running away from her burning island seems like a blur. A lie that's fallen apart and what's left is a scramble of pieces too scattered to make up a truth.

"Power, corruption, purity." Ino shakes her head. "The world is hostile because every creature, man and beast within her is filled with malice. I know: I hear their thoughts."

"Ino, I—"

Smiling more to herself, Ino stands from her half-broken chair and takes her fruit-shell bowls with her. Sakura feels incompetent. Stupid; she's suddenly thrust into a world she knows nothing of.

Months ago— _years_ ago, magic meant nothing to her. Just a foreign thing, distant; used by creatures and monsters. Now she walks amongst them and she knows absolutely nothing!

And her eye! Sakura's heart pulses at the thought, her eye—her _good_ eye—frantically turning to look at Ino to see what she is doing.

Did she cover it up because she knows what it is capable of?

Her chest throbs again and her brow slowly begins to furrow as it echoes, harder than the last.

She folds her arms across her chest, feeling as if something—her heart, her lungs, her ribs, all of her—is trying to escape her body and this is all she can do to keep it from happening.

"Seedling, would you like a change of clothing?"

There is a ringing in her ears. Powerful, sharp, and deafening. It makes her grind her teeth, makes her jaw twitch. Sakura stands from her seat with her back straight.

"Seedling?" Ino turns towards her, a hand on her hip. "Sa—hey, where are you going?"

 _Into the woods_ , Sakura wishes to respond but doesn't understand why she wants this, why she needs this. A need so strong it aches. A throbbing begins at the back of her head, moves forward and with it comes disorientation.

It doesn't seem to matter, she realizes before she loses herself to the fog in her head, for there's been a command sent to her head and despite whether she is aware or not, she will get to her destination.

.

She returns to reality with a choked scream. She's bleeding again, she realizes and something, somewhere in her body _hurts_. Shadows are everywhere and the long branches of willow trees continue to swing and try to… to _what_?

She stands up from the ground and lunges. At what, she does not know. For what, she does not know. For who, she doesn't realize until his hand slides into hers as he continues to hang upside down, his ankle sequestered by a willow tree.

Chaos, she realizes, continues around her, around them, but her eye finds his.

Sakura whispers, "Finally."


	3. Us against the World

**3**

..

The grass crunches under his boots. Sasuke observes with mild interest, the way the yellowing blades reach towards him with the intentions to keep him in place.

They can't, of course. This grass is dying, lacking strength from time gone without feeding. There are forests that have so much greed and desire to live that mere rainfall does nothing to them; not the way blood seems to strengthen them, give them longer life force and deadly intentions.

How long has this grass gone without a victim to drain?

"If we head further to the northern region, perhaps there will be a village that has not evacuated," Sai comments. He tilts his head to the side, letting the veins pronounce against his white skin; a dark crackle like cracked porcelain. "How absurd of that village to close up and leave in a caravan."

"Ain't they in more danger that way?" Naruto asks, his nose wrinkled and fox ears twitching. "I mean, this bastard says the Black Fire don't spread, so..."

Sasuke pauses for a brief moment, a hand on his hip as he squints up at the afternoon sky. "It does not," he assures. "It has no commander and it has done what it has been told to do. It will stay there and wait."

"How does that even work?" Naruto asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest, his blue eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed. "I mean, I don't know if you noticed this, but that Fire just took down an _entire village_!"

Sasuke rolls his eye. "Because it was unleashed within the village. It is done with that. Now there is nothing more for it to devour until its summoner calls for it again."

"Interesting," Sai murmurs, taking a step forward to resume their slow traveling. "It is quite a shame the Fire Breathers are close to extinct; such power is a loss to the world."

"Hm," Sasuke grunts, lips pressed and his attention on the trees. He stops again, turning his head from one direction to the other, studying more carefully. "What did the signs say, again?"

"Kusagakure is supposed to be about ten kilometers west…" Sai furrows his brow as he, too, begins to study their surroundings. "I'm not sure if we've traveled far enough to reach the fork road."

"S'gettin' late," Naruto comments, a gloved hand hovering over his eyes as he looks up at the sky. He looks back down at his companions and inches closer, his hands in the pockets of his long and tatty leather coat. "Why? What's the problem?"

"Kusagakure does not exist anymore," Sasuke says. "It was devoured, village and nymphs and all."

Sai turns to him, his expression as devoid of emotions as always. Still, Sasuke thinks he's known him long enough now to distinguish that hint of confusion. "Kusagakure is not in the north."

"No," Sasuke agrees. "It is in the western region."

"Shit, did we make a wrong turn?" Naruto asks, scratching the back of his blond head as he crouches down. "Can we take a break before we turn around, I'm _starvin'_."

Sasuke listens for a moment: the breeze is not strong enough to even sway his hair yet he can hear the rustle of the leaves. Loud and almost eerie. Like they are speaking. Whispering to each other in a language that no one understands. He observes them, the way they dance and sway.

"When did we make a turn?"

"I thought we agreed to go straight," Sai replies.

Sasuke points at a tree. "That is an elm. It grows only in the west."

"…Impossible…"

"Guys," Naruto drawls, slowly standing from his crouch. His eyes begin to shift in color, flickering like the fickle flames of a candlelight. Orange and blue and blue and orange. His pupils cut into slits and the markings on his cheeks darken but he does not look away from what's grabbed his attention. "S'just me or are the trees… gettin' closer…?"

For a moment, they do not move and Sasuke is sure they do not breathe either. There is nothing but the rustle of the leaves and…

"Run."

"What?"

" _Run_."

They are messy in their deep desire to escape.

They zig-zag in front of each other, making an invisible braid before they manage to balance themselves and run straight across the disappearing path. They run with their full speed, breathing erratically through their parted mouths, greedily inhaling and exhaling air while ignoring the sharp pang at their sides.

There comes a moment where Sasuke is sure they'll escape, where he's positive he sees the path out the forest and away from the starving trees. This small hope shatters when, next to him, Naruto cries out in complete shock and terror as he is lifted off the ground.

Sasuke clenches his eye shut and wills his legs to move faster and faster still when Sai is the next to go. But Sasuke has never had an optimistic view on life and he knows that at any second, whatever has grabbed his friends will come for him too.

And when it does, when he feels the grotesque feeling of something slithering around his ankle, tightening so his boots press against his flesh, and then _yanks_ him back and up in the air, he lets out a string of curses. His eye is wide as he frantically looks around but all he sees is green.

There are so many trees of different breeds, small and close to the ground and tall enough to stretch and touch the sky. Moss and vine and ivy decorate anything and everything, so thick, the rubble of what is left of a village is close to invisible under it.

"Kusa," he whispers in slight disbelief.

"Willows," groans Sai as he dangles upside down, his ankle also sequestered by the branches.

Dizziness soon starts to make his thoughts muddy. All the blood in his body is beginning to flow down to his head from this position the trees have got them in. Is it worth to struggle? He considers reaching for a weapon, but all their weapons have fallen out of place to rest on the ground below them.

Sasuke closes his eye and grunts when the Willow shakes him and shakes him again.

He comes and goes from something like unconsciousness, both aware and not. He tries to turn his body heat to unbearable degrees but despite being made of fire itself, the heat of his flames betray him. He burns and can't concentrate; fumes stuck inside his head along with his blood. He tries to open his eye but it waters with the scald of his own magic betraying him.

So this is dying, he considers, clenching his eye shut and listening to Naruto struggle and battle for his attempts to freedom.

A hand slips into his and for a second he opens his eye but it's impossible to keep it that way. He tries to shift, tries to curve his back into a sitting position—as impossible as it is to do so in the air. He kicks at the branches, pushes when his foot catches.

"C' _mon_ , ya damn overgrown _weed_ ," Naruto growls, "Let go of me!"

Sasuke sinks back down to hang in place, his teeth gritted as he watches, with hazy vision, someone get tossed against a trunk.

"Who…" But his voice is less than a whisper, less than a breath.

"Stay awake, Sasuke," Sai calls to him. "Do not succumb to anything!"

"I am…On fire…"

"Ya bastard, you're _always_ on fire," Naruto yells, his orange eyes burning Sasuke's skin even further, even if Sasuke does not turn to him.

He can't explain to them that this burning is different than his usual. The Willows… they are doing something to him, to his magic. His fire is scalding him from the inside. He's… He's _dying_.

He feels someone's hand slip into his again and he opens his disoriented eye, locks his stare with theirs. Green… green with yellow…green with yellow and silver. Gold.

He murmurs a sluggish, "Finally."

"I will not let go!" She tells him, her thin fingers gripping him tightly, tighter as the Willow lifts him higher and brings her along with him. "I will not!"

Sasuke stretches his other arm towards her, grips her other wrist. She will die, he thinks, the four of them… they will die.

" _Stop_!"

.

Sakura looks over her shoulder, puffs of air exhaling through her bruised lips.

Night has seized the afternoon, allowing the shadows to grow confident, to grow in size and company and intimidation. Ino appears through them, her shoulders squared, a thick scarf-like cloak around her shoulders, hood over her head.

She holds her staff firm in her grip as she glares at the willow trees, her thin lips set, unable to hide her growing fury.

The rustle of the breeze caresses her short violet skirt, lifting the ragged pieces, allowing the soft-skin material of her shorts to come to view.

"I said _stop_ ," she said. Her voice is hard, determined with no traces of the teasing tones she'd have back in her hut. Strands of her pale blond hair fall over her face, shadowing her features further.

Nothing prepares Sakura for what she sees next.

Ino's eyes begin to glow. Blue and white, like ice, like the moon above them. The runes on her skin grow prominent before they burn into her skin; disappear out of existence.

" _Salix Sepulcralis,_ " she speaks, the wind picking up, blowing her hair back as well as her enormous scarf. "I have spoken your names and I command you to _drop them_ and do them no harm."

Sakura clenches the man's hands tighter, feeling the texture of leather against her nails. She shivers, swears she feels death kiss her cheek, touch her ankles, threaten to pull her down.

The leaves rustle, as if speaking. The men on either side of her continue to struggle, less forceful than before. They're losing. They're _dying_.

Ino lets out a battle cry filled with fury, one that rivals a harpy's. She lifts her staff and then pounds it back down to the ground. " _I will not have you tell me what oath I have and have not taken. I will lift and break my promise to kill no living creature and I will_ kill _you_! _Put them down_!"

There is a long moment where Sakura does not know what is going to happen. She feels sweat accumulate in her palms and it makes her slip against the man's leather gloves. She clenches his wrists tighter.

"What the _hell_ is goin' on?" one man asks; the scruffier, more animal-looking one, surely. "Who is that?"

Before anything else can be said, Sakura is suddenly freefalling to the ground. A scream rips from her throat, sharp and panicked. The men let out yelps of confusion and alarm as well only cut off when they land on the ground, as abruptly as how they began to fall.

"For the love of Kurama," the same man from before groans, rolling over and cradling his arm close to his chest. "I think I pulled som'n."

"Sasuke?" The other man has dragged himself closer, his skin almost translucent and his veins thin and black against his paper-like skin. "Are you—" he stops when he notices her and Sakura kneels back, her chest rising and falling unevenly with newfound fear. "Who are you?"

"I—"

"I ask you the same question, Ink Bearer." Ino stands right behind her and she places the staff right next to Sakura, a warning to keep the men away. A second later, she adds, "Jinchūriki."

"Aw look," the blond man manages to sneer. "Mindwalkers still grace us with their presence."

"He is… Is he alright?" Sakura asks, freeing herself from Ino's protection and crawling closer to the fallen man's form. Sasuke… the Ink Bearer had called him Sasuke.

He lies on his back, still, so very still. His breathing is slow, the rise and fall of his chest slower. It's so easy to believe he's merely sleeping. But he is not; his features are shadowed with pain, skin coated with sweat.

"He said he was burning," the Ink Bearer says, softly. "It should not be a matter of concern; he is a Fire Breather. But… it seemed as if something was wrong. This has never happened to him before."

"Hm," Ino hums, taking a step closer. "It is said the race of Fire Breathers ceased to be by their own flames."

"Wha'cha hintin' at, lady?" the blond man asks, his blue eyes shifting in color.

"Nothing at all," Ino says, smiling. "Seedling, tell me, are these your friends?"

"No… I…" Sakura bites the inside of her cheek, turning to Ino and feeling stupid for the new wounds she's acquired after being healed. "I just… I _heard_ them in trouble. I felt…"

Ino stares at her, unblinking. She can tell when she lies, of course, _of course_. Sakura turns away and looks at Sasuke. "Please… We can't leave him."

"Oh, all right," Ino sighs, flicking her wrist and turning her head away. "If we must. Men, if you will carry your deadweight back with us. I will lead the way."

Sakura moves out of the way once Sasuke is picked off the ground. It takes several attempts as both of his friends continuously pull away from him upon touching. He seems to be scorching hot; enough to have them wave their hands in a fanning manner.

Once she's satisfied at watching them haul him, she turns back to Ino. The runes are back on her skin, a shade or two lighter than her complexion and she's adjusted her scarf over her head once more. Tucking strands of her limp, tangled hair behind her ear she moves to walk beside her.

"You know I was lying," she comments.

"I do," Ino replies.

"You did not mention it though."

"I am sure you will let me in when you see it fit," Ino says, turning towards her. "But, please, would you _stop_ endangering yourself? Look at those wounds. Ugh, that cut on your lip is just awful."

"I… I am sorry," Sakura lowers her head. "I really did hear them in trouble. I do not know how, but… I _felt_ I had to come _here_ because something was wrong and… and if I did not I would _die_."

Ino remains quiet, her long hair swaying with her movements. "You are expecting me to know what this means."

Sakura grows flustered, her lips stretching into a bashful smile that only disappears when her injury stings enough to remind her of its presence. She lifts a hand up to touch it for a second, moves her fingertip to touch the cloth and wrappings covering her eye. "I am."

"Sometimes, seedling, it is not up to being told the answer to our questions," Ino says. Whatever else she is going to say is cut off when the men trailing them let out a series of yelps.

They both turn and watch as Sasuke arches his spine, wrenches himself free from his friends' grip and then jumps away from them, into a crouch. He stares at them, his dark eye observant, hazy with his fever.

"What," he croaks, "is happening?"

"Ya damn bastard! Scare us all half to death! You're the one close to kickin' the bucket and you're askin' us what's happenin'?"

Sasuke's eye narrows as he stares at his friends before he turns his attention to Ino, to Sakura. His attention remains on her. He convulses for a second, as if he is going to hurl but he manages to control himself, his expression sickened and menacing all at once.

"Who are you?" he asks her and Sakura slowly shakes her head.

"It does not matter," she tells him, moving closer. This is all her fault; going in to rescue a group of people she's never met in her entire life, putting so much determination in her efforts, enough to get hurt. "You should rest."

He grows stiffer the closer she gets, convulses, loses his balance.

"E-excuse me?"

"Get… _back_ …" he manages to order.

Then there is an enormous ball of flames emitting from his mouth. It is the most powerful, the most beautiful and menacing thing she's ever seen. Magma drips from it, dropping to the ground like raindrops. Smoke of the darkest black curls and sways up to the sky where it disappears.

Sasuke screams as the fire rips out from somewhere down his throat, his eye wet and his brow furrowed.

When it ends, he gasps for air, falls to his knees and supports himself with his hands on the ground, letting the grass pretend they stand a chance in their desire to eat him. The sharp lines of the muscles of his back appear and disappear with each of his uneven inhale and exhale.

There is lava on the side of his lip, like blood, when he looks up.

"What the hell is happenin'?"

"Have you lost control of your magic?"

Sasuke shakes his head and tries to stand up. He stumbles and for a second it looks as if he'll fall again. Sakura runs on instinct and presses her hands to his chest, presses her lips together to keep herself from gasping at his weight. She is unable to feel the unbearable heat his friends felt when they'd tried to lift him.

"You are fine," she whispers. "I have you."

"Who… are you?" he asks again, drawling, sluggish, his words mushing together.

"I—You should rest!"

The Ink Bearer manages to take him off her hands before he passes out, but not before he mutters something else, incoherent and inaudible: "So…'nnoyin'…"

Sakura clasps her hands together, turns to look at the others with a wide green eye. "He needs rest."

The blond man turns to acknowledge the destruction of the fire Sasuke produced, the grass and trees he's killed and the stench of burnt wood and bark. Ino slowly turns her attention to do so as well before turning back to her.

.

The Flames burn in place, digging deep into the earth now that everything that once was this nameless, insignificant village is gone forever.

He observes the destruction with fascination, turns his gray eyes to the relentless Fire with even more attraction. Oh, he'd touch them if he could. Stroke them; allure them just as they have charmed him for years and years.

 _He_ can command them.

 _He_ can put them into good use. He'd give them the entire world to feed on.

He lifts a hand, tries to reach towards the Black Fire but it crackles in fury, lets out black smoke and ashes to haze his mind upon inhalation.

He covers the bottom half of his face and turns away, adjusting his glasses and smiling against his palm. To think that they'd thought all Fire Breathers had died that night, sixteen years ago.


	4. Final Fantasy

**4**

..

Sasuke dreams of fire.

Of the Warring States, the land named after the very era the Fire Breathers came to be. Warriors dressed in fine silk the color of the richest blue and finest violet, armor of refined iron and strongest leather. Swords crafted by their own fire, designs speaking their heart's desires and soul's truest intentions.

A burrow in Konoha, the Land of Fire. The land of the Fire Breathers. Home, where a smaller version of himself roamed, his hair shorter, messier. His clothes: regal, his armor glossier, face pudgier the way a child's is, his mismatched eyes bright and observant.

He dreams of moments he keeps buried behind walls, in the dark corners of his mind, behind cobwebs, hidden under dust and residue of all he has done and been through to survive.

He dreams of his father sitting on the stone steps of their house, his black shoulder armor beautiful under the gleaming sun. His voice is, sounds, as it did when he was alive: low, clear, powerful, all knowing.

He tells him the stories of old, stories of their heritage, the Fire inside them that burns with fervency. It boils their blood, he says, scalds their veins. It heats their flesh, gives birth to their powers to protect themselves, protect each other, their home, their pride.

He tells him of the Great Sorcerer Indra with his fierce passion and his never-endless talent. He showed the Fire Breathers how to win wars, his father tells him. He breathed Fire into them, to them, on them. Burned them where they stood. Allowed the flames of red to warp into the darkest black and commanded them to feed on their loyalty, on their desires, their strength.

And then those people that burned absorbed the inferno into themselves with anger, with fear, with love. But as they exhaled these flames, no longer were they black. They were red—red and blue and orange and yellow.

The Fire Breathers did not question this for the Sorcerer had gifted them; who were they to demand more? They trained and—"Sasuke are you listening?"

"Of course, Father. I am just wondering if this is what is expected of Brother Itachi."

"Why do you wonder this, Little Flame?"

"I have heard the clan speak that Brother Itachi is most talented and his Fire is strongest. Most strongest since our ancestors."

His father does not respond, lips set in a frown, his brown hair shadowing his dark eyes as the wind caresses it.

"Father…" Sasuke looks up at him, hope in his eyes; a black one and a green one. "Do you think I will also be able to transform my Flames into Black Fire?"

"Sasuke," His father says. "I think I hear your mother calling you."

Sasuke dreams of fire.

It shifts and stirs from the images of Fugaku Uchiha, his proud father sitting on the stone steps of their old house. Shifts to the burrow of their land eaten alive by Black Flames and his younger self staring at what once was, unable to accept that it will never be again.

He dreams of fire; it stirs violently and he sees his mother, beautiful as she stands in front of him, her dark blue kimono elegant against her pale skin, the black leather belts around her waist missing her tantō, her gloves as soft as her fingertips as they brush his cheeks.

"Sasuke," she say, her words gentle, her eyes gentler. "My bright little flame."

"If they bother me about my _other_ eye again, promise we can cover it up? Like Obito?"

"But I love this eye," his mother tells him, laughing. "It is like a jewel. Like you."

"I do not want to be a jewel," Sasuke huffs. "I am a warrior, Mother."

"My warrior jewel."

"That does not make sense."

His mother laughs. "If your father agrees, I will make you a patch myself, even _better_ than Obito's."

Sasuke grins, wraps his small arms around his mother's neck and lets his fingers get lost in her long dark hair, the cool iron of her armor welcomed against his warm skin.

Sasuke dreams of fire.

He sees his destroyed home, his father's stern observations, his mother's smiles. He hears her laughter, hears his father speak. He smells the scent of soot and fire on his father's clothes, smells his mother's cooked meals.

He sees the Black Flames devouring his clan's houses. Home. He sees it all gone.

Sasuke dreams of fire.

He holds his brother's hand as he leads him out to the docks. There is childish mirth in his smile, a secret in his mismatched eyes. He turns around as he lets go of Itachi's hand, gives him a thumbs up, hand curled enough to get the leather of his glove to groan.

"Look, Brother," he laughs, twisting on the toes of his boots again, "I can do more than just little sparks now. I am not a child anymore."

"Is that right?" Itachi snickers. "I think I will have to be the judge of that."

Sasuke spares him a crooked grin over his shoulder. He sucks in air for dramatic effect. He feels it in his small chest, the burning. Scalding as it bubbles, overflows up his throat and begins to carve a pathway to lead out his mouth.

The fire is smaller than any normal Fire Breather's. But it is no longer mere sparks and black smoke.

Black.

Black Fire burning, eating Father lying atop Mother, dead on the ground of their burning house. Burning lands.

Black.

Black Fire everywhere. The Flames that betrayed and killed his entire people and left him alone in the world.

Sasuke dreams of fire.

.

Sakura remembers things in this order:

Sai and Naruto muttering their names when she keeps staring at them with questioning looks. Ino ordering them to set Sasuke on the same bed she'd woken up in hours before. Ino standing at the foot of that bed, her hands on her hips and her head cocked back as she studies him. Ino admitting she has no experience in helping Fire Breathers but she wants to let him sleep this off and if come morning he is still not better then _something_ must be done.

And then she remembers placing cool, wet towels on Sasuke's burning forehead. She remembers the sizzle upon contact, the dribble of sweat rolling down his temples, accumulating at the sharp cut of his jaw before daringly curving down to his throat. She remembers changing that towel, remembers how _dry_ and close to catching fire it'd been the times she'd changed it. Remembers how restless in his sleep Sasuke was, his brow furrowed, his lips pressed, pursed, opening as if to speak before clamping shut.

And now Sakura stands outside with Ino's arms wrapped around her as the hut is engulfed in flames. Regular flames, she has to tell herself, remind herself as she teeters at the edge of hysteria, confusion pulling her, anxiety yanking her one way, adrenaline pushing her the other.

Regular flames of red, yellow, orange. A mixture of gold, even. Not black. Not her flames of destruction. She pinches the fabrics covering her awful eye. Not her fire.

"I cannot _believe_ ," Ino almost whines, dropping her hands, taking a step forward. "I bring you to my home and _this_ happens."

" _Lady_ , Sasuke's still _in there_ ," Naruto barks, his wild, orange eyes on her.

"I fail to see how this is a problem," Ino sneers. "He is of Fire. My _home_ and my peoples' secrets are what we should be mourning!"

"But he is… he is unconscious," Sakura says, finally reacting, blinking her watery eye. She clenches her hand to hide how it shakes. This is not her fire. She repeats it again and again. Not her doing. This is not her fault. "We have to _help_ him."

"He is _fine_ ," Ino insists. "He will be fine. I have never heard of a Fire Breather hurt by his own Flames."

Sai and Naruto stare at her for a moment, the occurrences from earlier quietly written in their expressions like a story. They do not say anything, at least, Sai does not and as Naruto is going to, the former places a hand on the latter's shoulder and squeezes. They turn back to the fire, watch as the hut begins to curl into itself, fall into pieces.

And they wait.

Sakura runs her hands through her hair. She has never been conscious to watch the deaths. She's always lost it by this point, has shut herself out, has lost all senses and has failed to return until long after the mess she's created; somewhere else, somewhere new.

She takes a step back but freezes when she hears Ino: "Look."

Sakura's wild green eye looks at the crackling flames, at the shadow that forms, tall, shoulders wide.

It takes a moment, but Sasuke walks out of the fire, unharmed, unburned. He walks out as if he's walking out of the woods, taking a stroll. He adjusts his eye patch, ruffles his hair, fixes the harness of his shoulder armor. The lilac bruise under his eye makes him look sickly, much like the sheet of sweat over his skin, but he looks okay. He looks fine.

At least… Sakura assumes this is fine. She doesn't know him. But her heart thrums in her chest, against it. Hard. She looks down at the ground for a second.

Sasuke turns around and crouches down on his haunches, curls his fingers over his mouth and begins to suck in all the fire. It starts to move in slowly, curling, swirling and as it moves in and in, it gradually picks up speed as it whirls into life like a tornado. Sasuke swallows it all up and by the end of it, there is no fire left in sight.

But the hut is in ruins and everything inside is beyond saving. Ino moves closer, kicking some of the wood and looking for anything salvageable. She groans and screeches, throwing her head back to look up at the sky.

"You are in luck that it was your fever that caused this," she growls, turning to Sasuke, her gray-blue eyes narrowed. "But luck runs out at some point, I must remind you."

"Who is she?" Sasuke asks, pointing at her with his thumb as he turns to his friends. His eye finds Sakura and then he nudges at her with his chin. "And she—who is she?"

"They helped save us from the Willows," Sai says. "Sakura and Ino."

"A Mindwalker helped us?" Sasuke asks. "Interesting."

"Oh, _please_ ," Ino sneers. "Since this grand meeting you and your mongrel have done nothing but make me out to be such a terrible person that thinks she is above the rest of the races in these lands."

"Are we wrong?" Sasuke asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

"Well, no," Ino sniffs. "But at least allow me the chance to show my perfection. Besides, I saved you because my seedling was in trouble in her attempts to aid you."

All eyes fall on Sakura.

Sakura feels her cheeks grow hot and she awkwardly waggles her fingers in a hello.

"I see," Sasuke murmurs, his eye on hers. He holds her there, in place, his eye staring into hers, for what seems like forever but is much shorter than that. Sakura thinks she is unable to breathe for the entirety of it and realizes it to be true when she softly gasps upon him looking away.

He turns to Naruto and Sai and begins to speak to them in a hushed voice. Sakura is still trying to regain her breath when Ino cuts in, her long, pale blond hair swaying as she steps closer to them.

"What is with the secrets?" she asks. "Sakura and I are also here, you know."

Sasuke raises an eyebrow, tilts his head. "Are you insinuating you will be doing jobs with us now, then?"

Ino laughs, like wind chimes. She outstretches her arms on either side of her. "I no longer have a home to stay in."

"Heh," Naruto chuckles.

Sakura nears, her steps hesitant.

"What do either of you know of Black Fire?"

Sakura freezes.

.

"Black Fire?" The Mindwalker echoes, her hands on her hips, her weight on one leg. "Destructive Fire that eats at its summoner's command. Powerful enough to destroy an entire nation. Fire Breather, do you not know your people's own history?"

Sasuke ignores her, staring at the trees and absentmindedly licking his lower lip. He thinks of his dreams, the Black Fire eating his home, eating his family. He thinks of his Father, thinks of his mother, thinks of his brother. He thinks about what happens after the Black Fire but all he really recalls is wandering, killing for pay, building for food, learning from kissing risk and kissing death so many times.

"Mindwalker," he begins, his tone drawling, like he's bored, like he's spoken of this thousands of times so much so that it tires him. "I am the only of my kind left. There is Black Fire destroying villages and it is not at my will."

He slowly observes them all, Sai's careful analytical expression, Naruto's sneer, Sakura's lowered head and Ino's pale eyes staring right back at him, catching on to what he's trying to say.

"There are two alternatives to this, with that truth," she says, tucking her chin in between her thumb and forefinger.

"One, there is warlock that has gained the ancient powers of your kind," Sai states, his hands at his hips.

"Or two, ya ain't the only Breather alive." Naruto's grin is wide and feral, all his sharp teeth out and gleaming under the moon.

"And I do not think I like either possibilities," Sasuke admits, running a hand through his messy dark hair. He does not tell them that to have another Fire Breather alive means that he is to face the murderer of his entire race. Closer than that. Clan. Family.

He clenches his jaw and looks out to the shadows. "We should leave."

"I know a small town nearby," Ino nods, her hair almost white against the moon's glow. "We can rest in an inn for the night and decide what our plan of action is."

She begins to lead the way and, like a smitten dog, Naruto follows right after her. Sai is not far behind, much more careful in hiding his intrigue. Sasuke's amusement is short lived, as good as gone when he notices Sakura is rooted to her place, her expression frantic as she tries to look for a way out.

"I should go," she whispers, sparing him a glance. He observes her pink hair, falling in wavy layers around her shoulders. "I will only be a nuisance, after all. I… I am of no magic bearing race. I am a mere—"

"Untouched," he finishes for her, grabbing her wrist. His spine straightens at the feeling, stomach jolting at the familiar sensation of holding such a small, fragile limb in his callused hand. "Yes, I know. But you did not seem to mind this when you tried to save me from the Willows."

She opens and closes her mouth for a second. He suspects she is more frightened at the contact of his hand on her wrist rather than what he's said. Still, this only makes him curl his fingers a bit tighter. Something about it, about her—about this, perhaps, even—makes him more selfish. Greedy.

His heart skips a beat.

"That… only seemed right," she defends, but she does not try to tug herself free. "You looked ill."

"And an Untouched was going to save me?"

She flushes.

"Come," he tells her, demands of her, somewhere inside him he can even admit he almost pleads of her. And as if to bury that part of him he adds, "You have heard too much already, regardless."

"But I…"

"Sakura," he says, slow, drawling out each syllable. With feeling hidden under exasperation. "Was that your name?"

She says nothing, but she follows him, allows him to lead her to their sloppy group.

.

His shelter is swallowed by shadows, the moon so weak it can only illuminate the small space in front of the small window. He thinks nothing of this as the door creaks upon entry, creaks upon closing it behind him.

His steps are slow, steady. He does not turn a light on for it requires him to look for matches, feel around for the candles he's to light up. Too much work and despite his high spirits he is far too tired.

Instead, he walks into the kitchen by merely remembering how his home is mapped out. He pauses at the makeshift sink, turns on the faucet and crouches over the small bucket as he washes his hands.

The fine, thin, small hairs at the nape of his neck stand on end the moment he realizes he's being watched.

Slowly, he turns around.

Shadows.

Shadows and red eyes staring back at him.

"You visited the Black Fire."

"And who might you be?" he asks, adjusting his glasses to hide his alarm.

There is a soft, deep noise. He assumes it to be a chuckle.

Slowly, he stands back up to his full height.

"You are looking for the last Fire Breather." Those red eyes are menacing in how neutral they seem to observe him. As if he's doing nothing wrong. As if there is no ulterior motive. "You want his Flames."

"Those are not his Flames," he lies.

"They are."

At this, he cocks his head back and lets out a soft snort. "And how would you know this?"

"Because they are not mine," he casually answers. He shifts a bit, his hair sways, perhaps. "Kabuto, that is your name, is it not?"

"And yours?"

"It does not matter." He rises. "Do as you wish and dispose of his companions. But be sure to leave the Little Flame to me."

Kabuto narrows his eyes. "Some nerve—I have no desire in his second rate friends. I wish the powers of his Flames—"

Those red eyes are on him once more and, suddenly, he remembers nothing else.


	5. Road Trip

**5**

..

They arrive to the small town just as the sun begins to rise. The sky is still dark, hues of red and pink where the sun ascends in the horizon, behind hills and mountains and massive rock structure that seem so out of reach but spike a daring impulse to try –some day, one day.

Sakura pauses for a moment and stares.

The Land of Six Paths is so beautiful, she thinks, observing the distance, wondering with no restraints to her imagination as to what lies, what hides out there.

The greenery lives, that much she knows. She closes her eye and inhales softly, warped visions of the Willows flashing across the back of her lid, lashes fluttering to sweep the soft bruise singing tales of lack of sleep.

If they traveled without interruption, she assumed, it was because of Ino. And given how untroubled the others had been to all this, she is certain of this to be true.

The village unfolds and comes to life before her as she brings up the rear of their ragtag team. She watches the empty streets, cobblestone uneven and chipped under her boots.

A man pushing a wooden cart appears as he turns from a street. He yells, "Bread!" loud and clear, his steps slowing, observing as doors to the townhouses open and wives, husbands and children alike come to buy a silver moon's worth or three.

Doors remain open, wide enough to show an aged grandmother rocking in her chair, waving a paper fan at herself, dictating what should be done for breakfast. Other doors close up again, leaving only the gate doors closed, the thick wooden ones open wide.

The streets come to life. Vendors and merchants load up their wooden carts with their goods. Warm porridge in generously sized aluminum pots with bowls made of dry and preserved fruit shells to pour into for paying customers. Meats from freshly killed livestock, fruits and vegetables, trinkets.

Sakura stares, entranced on how life untangles itself in the early morn, steeling her backbone and resolve, promising she will not ruin this.

"In here," Ino orders, leading them into a building. She pauses in front of the front desk, speaks to a woman with thick glasses and messy corn silk colored hair. There is familiarity between them; superiority in Ino, subordination from the other woman.

The room they are taken to is adequate, scarcely furnished and lightly layered with dust. There are two beds and a small chest at the foot of each, a window in between them and a nightstand beneath it.

Ino eyes it all with a wrinkle to her elegant nose.

Vaguely, Sakura wonders if Ino has always lived in the woods, in that hut, surrounded by greenlife that, subdued as they might be, wish for nothing but to drain her of her blood and feast on her flesh.

"It will do," Ino comments, turning to them. "I am assuming we will not be staying long."

"Indeed," Sasuke agrees, walking to peer out the window, his lone eye narrowed.

The sun has risen, bright and demanding. Shouts of the townsfolk bubble up to them; greetings and minor gossip, reprimanding of unruly children out to shop for breakfast's ingredients with their mothers.

"Do you have a plan of action?" Sakura questions, feeling much more comfortable than before. She sits on the edge of a bed, fingers the strips of cloth covering her eye. It pulses, she anxiously admits to herself.

Sasuke turns to her, his messy hair brushing the line of his neck. He looks at her, his dark eye intense, sharp cheekbones beautiful and full lips parted to form the words he's trying to grasp for.

"I noticed a pub during our walk," he says, walking back to the space left between the entrance of the room and the beds. Naruto and Sai have already dropped to the ground, the fact that the beds go to both women going by unspoken. "Perhaps as the day progresses, Sai, Naruto and I will go and see if we stumble upon any information by word of mouth."

"And us?" Sakura asks.

What is she thinking, she wonders, hands curling into fists on her lap. She has no magic and she carries no weapons. She does not even think she knows how to fight anymore, as good as she'd been at throwing mean punches when she'd been younger and enraged.

Now in this weakened state, mistress to her fear of the twisted turn her mismatched eye has taken… She closes her eye for a moment, ducks her head as so not to allow her companions to see. She is a fragment, a ghost of the person she was, ripped away from home by her own doing, stripped of her agency by her confusion.

She wants it all back. And she believes that in order to get what she realistically can take back, she must _try_.

"The Mindwalker seems to have history here. I do not care too much what it is but of the five, it is best she stays and tries to find information through the patrons."

Ino scoffs from her bed, a leg crossed over the other, arms crossed over her chest. "I hope you realize, Fire Breather, that due to the ability to disconnect with our bodies, my people happen to be able to know when truths are omitted and lies said in their place. Pubs are filled with liars."

Sasuke's smirk is slow and as haughty as Ino's. They stare at each other, calm hostility in their eyes as they size each other up. From his left, Sai and Naruto spare each other glances.

"I am well aware of your people's abilities. It is why I'm telling you to stay here." He tilts his head back, leans it against the wall and closes his eye. "You will be able to catch a fib. My group has frequented enough pubs to be able to handle drunks inside taverns."

.

There are too many voices, too many people speaking all at once. Perhaps it is the lack of sleep, but it's giving him such a headache. He lifts his tankard, brings it to his lips. The beer is bitter and refreshing, at the very least.

Sasuke runs his finger diagonally across his chest, following the leather harness of his shoulder armor. His unblinking eye rests on their table's uneven surface.

He exhales slowly, observing the tavern with minor interest. All taverns, after all, are the same; the bar at the far end of the establishment, tables of different sizes, shapes and material littering the space and drunk men and women, natives to the town or travelers passing by, sitting and being _loud_.

"Ye call that a _story_?" The pub begins to quiet down at the croaky voice, all attention grabbed at the mere chance of a fight. " _Ha_! Ye all are mere babes actin' like ye lived long enough to 'ave some wisdom, eh? Let me tell ye a _story_ —a—a _legend_."

By now, the loud hum of conversation has gone completely silent as each drunk turns to the old crone huddled at a table, wrinkled fingers laced, covered head bowed over a cup of untouched beverage.

Sasuke shifts in his seat, leans back and rests his boots up on the edge of the table, elbow resting on the thick back of his wooden chair. In front of him Sai and Naruto both turn towards the hag, each with their tankard of lager at hand.

"'ere is a legend that the folks of these Lands 'ave long forgotten. The new folks— _ye_ li'l babes passin' yerselves off as warriors and conquerors. The old... we remember. The true legend of Ying and Yang. "

There's a slow rise of murmurs; drunks annoyed at being constantly put down by an old lady or nonbelievers choosing to ignore her before she's even begun. Naruto is already chortling to himself, shaking his head and letting his orange fox ears flap with humor.

"We are a country built on magic—it is the very air we _breathe_. Our foundation, our essence. Yet as time 'as gone, this chip of 'istory 'as been denied time and time again! Ying, the female principle in nature; negative and passive. Yang, the male principle in nature; positive and active. Is it so 'ard to accept? _Listen_ —

"Every one 'undred years, a Ying and a Yang are born so powerful in their nature, they are meant to be _one_ single entity. A soul divided into two. Mates, linked since before birth. They 'ave never met, but their souls will remember each other. It was with their own, once. It will just take time to _remember_."

"Sounds like a load of—"

Sai elbows Naruto, never looking away from the hag.

"One 'alf of the same whole. The Ying carries that which is the opposite of the Yang. 'is negative, 'er positive. A full circle. Is that not what 'appened with the First Noble Wizard?"

Naruto shifts in both annoyance and discomfort. Sasuke watches the crowd with minor interest, his unoccupied hand scratching at the skin just under his eye patch; the other holds his half empty tankard of beer.

"So much of our Land's 'istory has been changed, but _I_ will not be fooled. When the wizard Hashirama fought the rampaging beast known to the race of Jinchūriki as their god, Kurama, 'e 'ad been _defeated_!"

"You've drunk too much ale, old hag!"

At this, Naruto laughs and even Sasuke is incapable of hiding a crooked grin. He's heard fragments of this story long ago, when his mother would put him to bed and his father was out handling business for their clan. He doesn't remember it anymore; he'd buried it long ago along with the rest of his memories.

"It is the _truth_! One that 'as been erased, denied and _changed_! The Noble Hashirama 'ad been depleted of 'is magic battling Kurama and 'is crumpled body lied in a 'eap of broken boulders. And if not for the Witch with flaming red 'air, he would 'ave died that very day and what we call 'ome now would 'ave ceased to exist!

"Hashirama, the First of the Four Noble Wizards, was a 'ansome man. Long dark 'air, tanned complexion for 'e worked at constructing a lot if not _all_ the villages that spread across these lands. And with a peculiar case of different colored eyes. A dark one—as dark as his 'air. And the other the color of the sky at night.

"'e was to die… And 'e was saved by this woman 'e never in 'is life met before. And she was beautiful, this Witch with flames for 'air. In 'is final moment, it is when she appears to him, climbing the boulders that play his deathbed and falling to 'er knees at 'is side. 'er 'air spreads around them, like a scarlet curtain, one with the very blood flowing out 'is body and leavin' 'im empty.

"And when their eyes meet—"

A loud snort cuts through the old woman's story. It's enough to get Naruto started and, not long after, is he laughing loudly and hysterically. He slams his tankard back down on the thick wooded table, slaps his lap as he coughs his way down his ridicule.

Sasuke closes his eye, his lips still twitching with minor humor at his idiot friend's attitude.

"Shut _up_ , Naruto," Sai hisses, shoving him a bit and letting his eyes bleed completely black with ink.

"Ah," Naruto sighs, wiping at the tears in his blue eyes, careful to not scratch himself with his claws. "I forgot ya Ink Bearers like this sort of stuff. Books and whatever."

Sai scoffs but he does not utter another word.

"Mito is what kept Hashirama alive. She carried the other 'alf of him, his powers, ye see. She came to 'im jus' as 'e was to die, for she felt it within 'er—'alf of 'er was _dying_. And when their eyes meet, that fateful night—"

"Aw, what a loud of crap, grandma," Naruto finally calls out, ignoring Sai and waving him off. The table moves as he leans his upper weight on it, his blue eyes big and bright, grin wide so his sharp teeth are in view. "Everyone knows the Four Wizards were too busy corrupting magic to have much time to do anythin' else. 'specially to take part in the creation of some fake legend about _soul mates_!"

"Demon," the old lady whispers, low, deep and guttural. She sets her attention on him, her only seeing eye wild with rage, her blind one dead. Her wrinkled lips curl to show the blunt, yellowed teeth and the spaces were most are missing. "A demon is what you are! Speaking of the Great Wizards like that—may they _burn your tongue_!"

"May they knock my teeth out, too," Naruto laughs and chokes when Sai shuts him down.

"Quit giving us attention, you imbecile," Sai sneers. "I will get you more ale. Perhaps that will silence you."

"Doubtful," Sasuke pitches in, shifting in his seat again and dropping his legs.

By now, the tavern has forgotten the story and the crone telling it and the wave of drunk laughter and drunk conversation has settled in place again. Sasuke sits in a position where he can observe the entire room, listens to what conversation he can and drops it when it is of no interest.

"Poor lady." Sai returns with a soft sigh of dejection and two tankards filled to the brim with beer, the foam slipping over the edge and sliding down the length of it. "I found her story interesting."

"A load of crap," Naruto drawls, shaking his head and accepting his tankard. "Shit like that don't happen. Ya shag a broad and ya move on. Have a litter."

"We are not _animals_ ," Sai pleasantly reminds him, his pale lips in a smile that is incapable of reaching his eyes. "Not all of us are part fox."

"Tch," Naruto scoffs. He shifts so he can pick up where he's been slacking off with his job, ears flapping as he grows more alert into listening in on conversations. Still, he manages to mutter one last, "Well ain't ya lucky."

.

This is, perhaps, the calmest Sakura has felt in a very long time. Too long, she even considers as she feels the way her bones shudder at the weight of her exhausted muscles. Foreign in how weak and relaxed they are when she'd become so accustomed to being tense; back rigidly straight, shoulders as squared as possible and every muscle hard with tension and fear of the unknown curling in the future minutes, hours.

Sleep… oh, how wonderful it feels on her numb mind to finally have managed to _sleep_. Not merely rest her eyes, her brain continuously running in circles, looping loops and digging up unknown answers to unknown questions.

She feels… much like she did, once, before. Many days ago, weeks ago, even, perhaps, months ago. Never mind her exhausted frame, the rest of her is managing quite well with the few hours of rest she's managed to get. Her spirit, battered as it is, can finally stand and be ready for more.

Sakura smiles a bit at this as she finishes making her bed. She smoothens out the sheets, folds the top a quarter of the way and she fluffs the pillow. It looks as if no one has even considered lying upon it. As does its twin straight across from it, where Ino had rested well before she disappeared out the door.

A part of her thinks, for a moment, that she should feel affronted at having no major part in whatever Sasuke's quest is. A part of her, a larger, more restless part of her is glad.

The door opens just as she moves to fold and pick up the sheets and throw pillows the men had left behind. Sakura stares with her single green eye as Ino slips inside, her posture as relaxed yet demanding of attention and respect.

"Hello," she greets, smiling as she bends over for the first of the sheets.

"You are awake," Ino comments, smiling right back and breaking the expression of cool, calm, collective. "I slipped away while you still slept. I did not have the heart to wake you; you looked so exhausted."

"I was… am, still." Sakura wonders if Ino can detect the utmost honesty in her words. Wonders with awe how such a gift has been granted to her people, her race, the extinct Mindwalkers. Able to break their souls away from their bodies and transfer themselves to other beings, they are like ghosts. Wanderers, as their race's namesake says. It only makes sense that in their being so spiritual they can detect lies and truths in someone's words.

"But I would not have minded accompanying you… I do not know what good I can _possibly_ be—"

"Seedling, do not sell yourself short so soon," Ino interrupts, staring at her with a knowing expression in her all-seeing eyes. This, Sakura assumes, is when any other person would turn that knowing look to her covered eye. Ino does not need to. "It would be quite a waste for you to wither away as a mere seedling, after all."

Ino picks up a sheet from the ground, wrinkles her nose in distaste but begins to fold it nonetheless. She looks up, feeling Sakura's unwavering stare on her. She shrugs a shoulder and winks. "There is no meaning to a flower unless it blooms. "

Flowers, Sakura thinks, die easily. But she does not voice it and she concentrates in tucking her true feelings away as she gives Ino a smile.

Silence falls around them, the only noise disturbing its serenity being the sheets that they flap and fold before setting them aside. The innkeeper, Shiho, had been so modest in giving them so many to dirty up at once; perhaps Ino had gone to see her to give gratitude in their name.

"Shiho," Sakura begins after a moment. "She is very kind… Is she your friend?"

Ino pauses from picking up a throw pillow, stares at it for a moment before looking up at her with a guarded expression. "Hardly. Shiho shows her hospitality because she owes me a never ending debt and she fears what I can do if she is to forget it."

"Are you really that frightening?" Sakura asks, brow furrowed. "It is hard to believe…"

Ino grins at this, cocks her head back and lets her hair dance behind her with the jerky movement. "I can be, considering what she owes me. But most that know about us Mindwalkers know of the oath taken to never do harm and so expect no retribution." Ino's grin turns into a crooked smirk. "They do not know that I, as the last of my kind, have no such connection with this oath taken for me long before my time."

Sakura presses her lips together. She tries to imagine what Ino can do and only remembers how she commanded the Willows to retreat on their attack. Weak at the thought, she whispers, "W-what did she do?"

"Heh," Ino chuckles, dry and without any humor. "My kind practiced betrothal of their young. Girls were engaged long before they were even born and I had been no different. I did not love my promised future husband but he was mine nonetheless. We were… the best of friends, Shikamaru and I. He was perhaps one of the most gifted of the Mindwalkers and despite our love being platonic, I took pride in being his betrothed."

"Love stories are the worst," Sakura comments as she takes a seat at the edge of the bed.

"Indeed so," Ino agrees. "Especially one like this. Shikamaru met Shiho when he'd been away. I do not even remember the details for it was long ago. Whatever their romance was, short or long lived, it was me it affected for I looked like a fool. Shikamaru and I argued a lot after, or, I yelled and he merely took it and mumbled a reply here and there. But at the end of us—between us, since our engagement will be seen through regardless of our personal feelings—was also the end of him as he had left our clan and home behind to be free and with whom has taken his interest."

"Shiho…"

"Hmm," Ino hums, and turns her head. "A Jinchūriki. Powerful, perhaps ancient. I do not know and I do not wish to."

"You loved him…" Sakura's brow furrows, eye stinging.

"He was my closest companion. For long, I wondered that if perhaps I did not take it personal—"

Thing happen slowly. Or perhaps Sakura takes too long to understand them until after they transpire.

There is an explosion.

Splatters of wall and smoke and dust engulf the air and Sakura still sits as she tries to breathe behind her hands. There is a ringing in her ears and, for a second, listening to how far away Ino's voice sounds, she thinks she's losing her hearing. She gasps, caught between opening her eye wide with fear and confusion and squinting it shut to protect herself.

She's grabbed and hauled away, thin fingers wrapped around her upper arm. If she wants to scream when she feels the air whipping at her as they jump from their destroyed room, it disappears halfway up her throat.

Ino drops her on the street ground and Sakura gasps for air, coughs out all the bad she's inhaled and tries to regain control of herself.

What is happening, she repeatedly wonders but there is no answer. There is never a single answer, it's so _frustrating_!

She looks up as she continues to try to regain her bearings. Ino stands between her and whatever it is they now face, legs bent at the knees and hands up in front of her, her fingers set into a peculiar sign.

On the other side of her is… are… _snakes_. Enormous in size; thick and majestic with their snouts wide open to show the sharp fangs that will surely kill upon impact. Slit eyes set on them, on the small town and they only grow dilated with vicious passion when they aim to attack again.

Sakura shots and jumps up to her feet as one of the beasts swings its long body and pounds itself against another wave of buildings.

A blast resounds as houses and shops alike topple over themselves, taking everything and everyone within with them.

"No," Sakura whispers, head shaking in shock.

"'ello ladies." Through the chaos a group of four surface; a gentle looking giant, a pair of siblings with one looking haughtier than the other, and a woman.

"The Seven," Ino murmurs.

"There are only four," Sakura comments, eye growing wide. "The other three are perhaps—"

"They are dead." Ino interrupts. "There is no time for history lessons, Seedling. The Seven are a band of mercenaries that work for the Snake People. It'd been said the Snakes were dismantled and destroyed… I do not know their purpose but—"

"I never took Mindwalkers ta' be so talkative!"

Ino jumps out of the way as a massive sword is swung at her. Her hair grows translucent as it whips and fans out behind her. There is an enormous crack where she'd stood.

"Quick one too, eh?"

"Suigetsu, concentrate," his brother says. He looks much calmer, speaks more clearly but he looks just as deadly as his sibling. "Let us do the job and be done with it."

"Fine, fine, Manny boy. But _I_ call first dibs on the Fire Breather."

They move swiftly.

Ino is quick to keep up, spinning on the toes of her boots and landing a punch to Suigetsu's face.

"Ain't youse supposed to be like peace and love? I thought youse Mindwalkers—"

"Stop thinking," Ino says, placing her hands on his shoulders and kneeing his gut. "It seems to make you weak."

"Feisty one," the woman sneers, adjusting her glasses. "Such a gift for the Land to be bestowed with a feisty Mindwalker as the last of her kind." She slowly turns her attention to Sakura. "I like the quiet ones, though."

A part of Sakura considers unbinding her left eye and unleashing the Black Flames. She thinks it could possibly be the only answer to this. To kill the enormous snakes and stop these mercenaries from trying to kill Ino and—

But she takes too long in making her decision and with a loud squeal of panic, she rolls out of the way from the needle-like sword that is aimed to stab right through her.

"Oh? Is there some fight in you after all?"

Sakura skids to her knees, scrapes her palms but she stands to her feet and looks at her surrounding. A weapon… How can she possibly fight if she has no weapons and—

"Surprise!" The woman coos and stabs the air as Sakura moves.

Gritting her teeth, she aims a punch.

It is too soft to cause pain but it is enough to show she is not… she won't die without a fight. She can't.

"Oh," the woman growls, adjusting her glasses. She glares at her with her red eyes, red hair falling over her face like scars. "You should not have done that."

When she next swings her sword at her, it is with the intentions to kill and not to play. Sakura's reflexes begin to grow clumsy as adrenaline kicks in, causing her heartbeat to pick up and pump too much blood into her veins.

A sharp cry rips from her throat when the needle sword slashes her side in her attempts to evade it. She falls to her knees and rolls to her side as she presses her hand to her wound.

The blood is sticky and warm in her palm and breathing makes it sting.

"Now then," the woman says. "A clean death for the Untouched."

Sakura's glassy eyes stare as the sword is aimed at her, set to pierce her heart and kill her instantly. But it never comes and instead an immeasurable heat takes its place as a calculated cloud of flames strikes from the side, burning the woman's sword wielding hand.

She cries out, dropping her weapon and cradling her injured limb close. Her eyes are vicious as she looks for the person responsible and only grows angrier when Sasuke moves to stand over Sakura's fallen form.

"Attacking an injured opponent? So like a witch."

"How _dare_ you?!" The woman picks the sword up and turns her body towards him, dropping into a stance. "If you think a mere burn will stop me—"

"I do not care," Sasuke interrupts. "I care about answers—who sent you? For what purpose?"

"Handsome as you are, Fire Breather, you will not get answers from me." The woman pauses to look around her, at her comrades battling Sai, Naruto and Ino. "We are here to kill all except you. You are to be kept alive."

"Karin," the giant mutters in warning.

"It is fine," Karin calls back, unflinching as Naruto attacks the giant. "We are retreating now anyway."

"I do not think so," Sasuke sneers. He pauses for a second and turns to look at Sakura from behind his shoulder. "Stay down, Sakura."

"I have… No plans… of moving," Sakura breathes. "I think—"

"You are not. I will not allow it." He turns back to Karin. He sucks in air, knees slightly bending as he summons his flames from within him.

The fireball is colossal in size as it moves through the air. Magma slips from the corner of his lips, down his chin. Anyone within range of the blast ducks and dives away from it, only after following it to its target.

The giant snakes screech in pain as the fire begins to burn them. It stops them from destroying the rest of the town, from making it another dead and nonexistent place with restless ghosts.

"Karin!" Suigetsu calls. "C'mon we're leavin'! Mangetsu—"

"Right behind you. There is no point to continue this now. We will get another chance soon enough. Juugo."

Juugo stops his brawl with Naruto and, as swiftly as his shorter companions, he sprints out of sight.

"Le's go after them," Naruto growls, his orange eyes fierce, pupils slit. "I'm going to—"

"We have to help Sasuke," Sai says, his pitch black eyes turning to the thrashing burning beast. "Sakura—"

"I will get to the Seedling," Ino gasps, holding onto one of her elbows. "That massive three-headed beast must be stopped."

They both nod.


	6. The Depths Below

**6**

..

The flesh still burns long after he's stopped calling forth his flames. The scales melt and slide off the skin, falling to the ground with a quiet hiss. There are crackles and pops; the air smells of something charred, roasted. Skin and bones, flesh and blood.

Sasuke walks closer, mildly observing his work, the yellow eyes frozen as they stare off at nothing for all eternity, until the eyes are nothing more.

The beast is huge, thick, splitting up into three heads, all as dead as the last. Massive jaws wide open, slitted tongues curled at the ground.

He nears, observes the fangs.

"What are you doing?" Sai asks as he comes closer, eyes narrowed and hand waving at the air in front of his nose. His eyes are still ink black, helping in making his skin all the paler, all the more translucent.

"Tamers make their weapons out of the bones of the decaying beasts they kill."

"Wha's yer point?" asks Naruto, arms crossed in front of his chest, nose wrinkled and his orange eyes staring the dead serpent down.

"I worked with a Tamer, once. Before this."

"Yeah?" Sai prods, genuinely intrigued.

Ink Bearers, Sasuke thinks with a mental roll of his eye, such selfish hoarders in wanting to know and learn everything. Sai has parted from his people long ago, so he says, but he still seems to share that trait.

"Wha's yer _point_?" Naruto asks again, turning his slitted eyes towards him.

"Help me pull this out," Sasuke replies, hand reaching and touching the sharp point of the snake's fang.

.

Sakura sits by what used to be their inn. Her back is against some of the rubble; her posture slouched so as not to disturb the medicinal herbs healing her wound.

Plants. Healing.

She'd thought Ino was trying to kill her when she'd demanded Naruto to find her some yarrow and other herbs from the town's outskirts. She hadn't voiced her fears, but her thoughts… Ino had laughed.

Murderous as the plants, like all plants, are, Ino merely has to command them in what to do. It's why she stands by her side now, for her power over them to remain strong, so they can heal her wound without trying to kill her.

Still though, Sakura can feel the harmless nibbles near the tender flesh around her injury. Harmless and more like a caress. Like curiosity at what they can feast upon if not for the Mindwalker controlling them.

Ino hums next to her, the runes on her skin darker now that she is discharging her magic. Her long pale blond hair is dirtied and knotted, scratches and scrapes and bruises lingering on her body. She looks out to the half-ruined town, expression troubled and lips moving with silent words.

"Unbelievable to consider creatures do this to one another," she says, lips pursed.

"You fought. I saw you. You moved with such grace… Like a warrior."

There are no accusations in Sakura's words; just fascination, wonder, the lightness of conversation.

"I am no warrior," Ino replies. "My people mind their own. It was the High Rule after years of using our magic to steal bodies, lives to do our bidding. But. I learnt to fight regardless. I felt like I had to. Learning kept me grounded. Allowed me to feel protected and I was my own protector."

Sakura is quiet after this and the silence that falls around them is restless from her end. She concentrates on the soft nipping of the herbs healing the gash on her side, mind wandering.

The town is loud as it tries to surface above the misfortune it'd so abruptly been dealt with. The sky is angry; restless just as she is and the shades of red mixed with the indigo blue shows it. No stars watch over them tonight.

"Perhaps…" she begins, staring at the townspeople. "Perhaps I should be more like you."

Ino is quick to scoff, hands at her hips. "Do not be ridiculous, seedling. For someone that has been thrust into a land as alive as the creatures it nurtures, you are faring quite well."

All conversation ceases at that moment as Sasuke, Naruto and Sai approach. They walk with distance in between them, heads dipped low or raised high; like men that have seen this time and time again, have been in the heart of chaos one time too many. It is as if death has lost it's magic over them.

"How are you managing?" Sasuke asks, his eye on the ripped side of her blouse. He tilts his head, observing the yarrow so meticulously rubbed and stuck on her skin.

"Well, I suppose," Sakura responds, lowering her stare down to the ground, lashes tickling the skin just below her eye. "I… should thank you—"

"Do not," Sasuke interrupts, hands shoved into the pockets of his trousers. "Consider it a payback for saving me from the Willows."

"Oh…"

Of course, she thinks. Why else would he save a stranger like her? She spares a glance at Ino, convincing herself the woman's slow lower of her head is a distraction, a means to allow her the privacy of her thoughts, her ridiculous feelings.

It's just that… He'd insisted she accompany them. He… He seemed as if he _needed_ her presence there with them. And—and… Perhaps this all really _is_ ridiculous… But should the rescue of her wellbeing really be a mere payback for having done the same two days prior?

Sakura shakes it off and looks up at him with a brief, hesitant smile.

"She will be healed soon," Ino states, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "The wound will be tender, but it should not be surprising."

Sasuke exhales softly and looks up at the sky. "It looks as though it will rain in the upcoming days. We will leave tomorrow afternoon at the latest. A night's rest should help her heal, correct?"

"Certainly," Ino snips, lifting her chin up high.

"We must find who passed the notion of our whereabouts," Sai cuts in, blinking his pure black eyes and letting the ink curl back into his body. He slowly observes them, his expression pausing on Sakura's bewildered expression. Sai smiles at her briefly before saying, "The Seven were here to eliminate us. But their true target was you, Sasuke. It is no coincidence that they knew you were in this town."

"I know who has done the deed," Ino mentions, standing tall, hands curled at her side. "I am insulted such a creature beneath me will even consider to betray me."

"Wha's she talkin' 'bout?" Naruto asks, scratching at the top of his head with a claw.

"Allow me."

Sakura looks up to Ino, her green eye growing wide as Ino gracefully lifts her arms up, her hands connecting by the fingers—thumb pressed against thumb, forefinger against forefinger.

The runes on her skin glow and her pale blue eyes flash white before her body crumbles down like a building, curls into itself, her head against Sakura's arm.

Panic instantly begins to bubble in Sakura's stomach. She shifts a bit, curls an arm around Ino's shoulders as she tries to maintain her breathing. "W-what has happened to her?"

"Relax," Sasuke mentions, turning so he's facing the broken town. "She will return soon."

Sakura is just about to demand answers when she notices someone walking up the street. Through all this, their group has been carefully avoided since the townspeople witnessed Sasuke, Naruto and Sai destroy the giant snake.

They are afraid. Not in the way that Sakura is afraid; not because she does not understand the magnitude of such power, has never witnessed it, has never even considered to be _near_ it. The townspeople are afraid _because_ of such power.

But this woman walks towards them, her strides fast and almost elegant. It would be, but on her it looks awkward. Her straw-colored hair is messy in her hectic walk from wherever she's been hiding to their location and her glasses are broken and crooked on her face.

Sakura gasps. "No…"

"Ah," Sai nods, forefinger and thumb hooked on his chin. "This actually makes a lot of sense."

"Lemme slice her throat," Naruto growls, his blue eyes flashing orange for just a second.

Sasuke is unresponsive as he watches the woman, Shiho, near. His expression is unreadable, carefully cleaned of anything remotely similar to Naruto's fury and Sai's enlightenment.

Sakura bites her lip, sitting up while being careful to mind her wound and the woman she cradles. Ino… she'd mention the unbelievably deep debt Shiho owes her; this woman… she'd _loved_ and taken Ino's promised lover from her.

Lovers in such an intimate definition, they might not have been. But Shikamaru had been… He'd been Ino's future spouse… He died because of her. Ino and he did not get the chance to reconcile as friends, if it's all they'd been destined to be—because of _her_.

And now she's betrayed Ino.

Anger surges up Sakura's veins. Crackling, like lightning, hot like a summer's sun. She shakes as she tries to contain it all in her weak body, closes her eye as she tries to find a calm in the middle of all the storm inside her.

Betrayal… She cannot stand it. Not when it's been done to someone as loyal and _wonderful_ as Ino. A woman so powerful, with so much insight, so much wise knowledge to share. A woman that has all this and still chose to save a stupid, mediocre girl from the vines, from the Willows and now… from a sword's wound.

But she must remain calm, she coaxes. She knows better than this, knows what the inability to handle her emotions cause. She touches the wraps covering her left eye and exhales from her nose.

There is no point in her anger when she cannot do a thing. Ino… All of them will take care of the traitor.

"I have unraveled her thoughts and her memories and have seen for myself. She is the one that passed the knowledge of our presence in this town."

It is Shiho's voice, lower than Ino's and less smooth and it is Shiho's face attempting to pull Ino's elegant and intimidating expression. But on her, it looks… it looks _awkward_ and wrong.

"Whom is she speaking to?" Sasuke asks, unbothered by how Ino-like this woman is and making it feel so wrong.

"A man," Ino responds, her voice growing softer, slower. "I cannot see who he is, perhaps he hid himself from her view. But his voice…"

"Enough, Mindwalker," Sasuke cuts in. "It is enough with one of us knowing who it is we are to give our regards to. Let us deal with the woman." He crosses his arms in front of his chest, tilts his head. "A clean way—"

"I'll rip her throat—"

"Sai should do it," Sakura says, smiling apologetically at Naruto. They all turn to her and Sakura feels the way her cheeks color, warm up, heat up, scorch up at so much attention on her.

She considers herself to be a tangled up knot, constantly getting close to undoing herself to get to the core of understanding who she is but always jumbling herself just before any success. More often than not, she's angry and afraid for the loss of the person she'd been, yearning for those days and that comfort of _knowing_ to return.

Still, if it is one thing that the tangled mess of who she is knows and is sure of is that she is observant. Sasuke's magic is fire; he is a tornado of flames contained under flesh and skin, sustained by bones. Naruto is a Jinchirūki, half man, half beast. Ino can detach herself from her body and infest and claim a new one if she so chooses, walks and stalks minds and takes the most private of thoughts hostages.

Sai… Is a man of pure poison. Monochrome in the way his skin is parchment-white and his veins black against his translucent skin, like cracks of broken porcelain. His blood is ink; poisoned and highly dangerous, able to kill instantly.

In her battle of slipping and not slipping into darkness after the Seven left, she'd managed to glance—blurry as her vision had been—to see the damage his magic is capable of.

Imagine if… "If Sai carefully injects some of his Ink into her bloodstream, this job can be less messy than the ripping of throats or the engulfment in flames."

"She will still feel pain," Sai explains, "as I inject it."

Sakura inclines her head, lowers her eye to the damaged cobblestone ground. "I assume so but it will last for a briefer moment than all other options."

"Hmm," he hums, black fractures already beginning to split across half of his face, like black lightning, eyes filled to the brim with Ink. "You speak truth."

Her smile is long, crooked, but all more importantly: true. Her comfort in the company she's keeping stretches no further than Ino. What she feels for Sasuke, she thinks, is basic attraction of his physical appearance but beyond that, she is _sure_ , is intimidation and that is something she feels for his own companions.

But this… feels nice. It feels as if Sai, and she hopes, Naruto _see_ her. She is not just a pitiful Untouched, to them. She is… she is a… a… well, a _companion_.

"Right then, let us begin. Ino…" Sai inclines his head, his dark hair falling over his forehead, over his eyes.

"Right," Ino drawls, Shiho's eyes observing him from over the broken glasses. "She will return to full conscious approximately two minutes after I leave her body. For her treachery, I wish you would wait for her awakening. But. The seedling is right."

Sai nods.

Sakura can't decide where to focus: on Shiho's body, the signs her fingers make, identical to that which Ino had made to leave her body. Or on Sai, who's forefinger begins to drip black ink. Tiny droplets, smaller than a morning's drizzle during the winter.

Still, it is enough to get Sasuke and Naruto to back away from him, cautiously, their eyes looking down at the way the ink burns the cobblestone. It's not even that, Sakura amends, looking at the way any life the cobblestone could possibly have is sucked away, leaving more cracks, dust, holes. Death.

"An Ink Bearer's poison is stronger than any poison concocted by man or creature," Ino gasps as she returns to her body. She lifts her head from Sakura's shoulder, straightens, stands. "It is why…" she says this as she looks at Sai, at the way he lifts his hand, his finger pointing at Shiho's unconscious body. Her voice is softer now, "It is why they cannot reproduce, let alone have relations with any other race but their own."

Sakura opens and closes her mouth, taking this new detail in. No other being can handle the Ink… This man has the ability to kill her by merely placing a kiss on her cheek.

She stares, wild eyed and slightly afraid as Sai manipulates the Ink to turn into a long, solid needle. It travels until it pierces through Shiho's tattered blouse and she convulses; spine arching off the ground, arms twitching.

Her serene expression crumbles and a scream gets caught in her throat, choking her, a fit rumbling from her heaving chest.

Sai's look of disinterest and impassiveness is as intact as when he'd begun.

The others step closer, mindful in not getting too close to the Ink Bearer. Sakura grabs onto Ino's skirt and lightly tugs to get her attention.

"Help me up," she requests. "Please."

Ino observes her for a second before she pulls her to her feet without effort, still careful of her healing wound. She slides Sakura's arm around her shoulders, snakes her own around Sakura's middle.

They are all hovering around Shiho's dying body when she awakens, froth at her mouth and veins like spider-web against her skin, lips blue.

"Hello," Ino greets. "Did you not remember who you served?"

Shiho screams, chokes, convulses. Her back cracks as her spine arches off the ground, knees bent, hips twisting.

"Now you will not be able to forget."

Sai begins to strengthen the amount of Ink he injects into her body, pressing his pale lips together as he wills his blood and magic out and into the wound the Ink has burnt onto Shiho's chest.

"Is this… Is this not suspicious?" Sakura questions, brow furrowing, her compassion steeling as she watches the woman spasm and twist and turn on the ground.

"Ain't no townspeople gonna turn this way," Naruto answers. "Too scared of us. Probably wishin' for the moment we leave. We don't exist to them right now."

"Perhaps they are afraid of the Jinchūriki roaming around," Ino drawls, a playful quirk to her lips.

Naruto blows her a kiss and chuckles but his smile is sharper than his teeth and his look is wild and feral.

"I…" she gasps, tears running down her cheeks, lips blue under the froth bubbling and popping. She chokes, eyes rolling back, glasses slipping off her face. "I did not…. do…. _Anything_!"

The last word is as much of a scream as she is able to give them.

Sakura tilts her head back, expression unwavering. How dare she lie to a Mindwalker?

.

The Land of Six Paths hums after midnight. The shadows loom, threateningly, waiting, hoping, promising to catch a meal. The trees sway, leaves rustle, branches stretch.

A strong, foul odor of rotten flesh slowly begins to spread as the giant snake decays, crumbling where broken bones can no longer hold up soft meat and skin.

It is cold, foggy, lightly wet. Sasuke exhales smoke, hating such weather, preferring the warm, keeping his heated skin and flesh all the warmer.

He pulls away from his task, running his hands up and down his thighs so the friction can keep his fingers from growing numb.

He stares at what he has just finished making, furrows his brow and leans closer to test the thick leather, finds the tucked and hidden knot and remakes it, tighter. The stark white of the bone glows eerily under the moonlight, shaped into a long, wide axe by Naruto's claws and refined into smoothness by Sai's Ink before sterilized by Sasuke's flames.

The handle has black leather wrapped around it bought in a shop within the town moments after the incident with the innkeeper. The leather wraps as so to make the sharp point of the once-fang blunt. Leather also wraps where the wide blade connects to the handle, keeping bone against bone.

Sasuke lifts it from where it rests over a rock dug into the dirt. He presses his lips together at its weight, wonders if this will be a problem but then amends that there is no such thing as weak in his group.

He slowly begins to walk back to where his companions have camped out. Near the outskirts of the town but not near enough to have trouble with the trees, tucked away behind an old building and huddled close for warmth.

He stops when he sees a figure darkened by the night sky, all traits hidden and swallowed by shadows. But there is a set to their shoulders that have become too familiar.

"Sakura," he says, low and firm. Questioning.

Her eye is wide and the finest shade of green he's ever seen. His dark eye locked with her clear one, he swallows the breath he hadn't realized was caught in his throat. Absurd.

"Sasuke," she exhales, lips in a weak smile, hand against her chest as if to calm her heart. "Apologies. I… cannot sleep."

He observes her for a second before looking out to the ominous darkness of the woods. "You should know better than to wander near the forest."

Sakura presses her lips together, her eye on the axe over his shoulder. "That…"

"It is for you," he states, setting it down on the ground, the bottom of the handle digging into the dirt.

"M-me?" She looks at him with shock, turns back to the axe.

"It has become clear you do not have a weapon. As an Untouched, you do not carry magic either… This…" He clears his throat, nudges her to take a hold of it. "This was carved from the fang of the snake."

"For me." It isn't a question. It is a fact that she states, like finishing the purpose of his words, letting his intentions be as clear as he means for them to be. She touches the handle, fingertips light and curious.

"It is… not poisonous?" she asks, her eyes still trained on the large weapon, her fingers withdrawing a few inches away.

"It can be," Sasuke begins, raising a brow, studying her expression. "But it is not."

Sakura touches the axe again, wraps her thin fingers around the handle. As he lets go and lets the burden of its weight fall to her, he watches if she is able to hold it securely. He furrows his brow when it threatens to overbalance her but relaxes as she stands her ground.

Curious, he thinks. Curious little Untouched.

"Thank you."

He returns his attention to her, his jaw tensing. Sakura looks at him with open sincerity in her expression. She is pale under the moonlight, her pink hair washed of color and her green eye close to silver.

Sasuke… He is stunned for a brief moment, lasting longer than it should because it takes him so long to notice how he's frozen up at being under her undivided attention.

There is the feeling in his chest, sinking to his stomach. It's identical to what he felt when she wished to part ways from their quick and messy team. Less powerful than the acute sensation that had driven him close to anxious as he'd sat in the bar, the establishment rumbling at the impact of the serpent.

This one… this one feels different. Tender, if he's to ever really remember how that is supposed to make him feel. Warm. Like bubbles popping in his stomach because his blood is boiling hotter than normal.

"Sasuke?"

"Yes."

He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. "Well, then. We should rest. We leave after high noon's aggressive heat."

Sakura lowers her eye, her eyelashes a stark contrast to her skin. She does not respond and they do not move. Sasuke thinks they stay like that for too long but he still doesn't move—does not want to.

There is… there is something he feels in Sakura's company that he does not feel when he is with Naruto or Sai or even the Mindwalker. Something buried deep inside him since the moment his mother and father burnt to death.

Comfort, perhaps. And he does not give himself the chance to see if this is true.

He begins to walk away.

Sakura, he notices, follows.

.

" _Mongrel_!"

Naruto laughs as he moves to sit in a crouch next to Sakura. He's dripping wet, shaggy blond spikes poofy and fox ears twitching and flapping.

Ino glares at him from where she sits at the base of the trunk of an enormous and thick tree, water dripping from her hair and peppered on her skin like freckles.

Sakura grins, pausing her fixation in studying the thick vine Ino has enchanted to serve as a holster, wrapped around her new axe's handle and then diagonally curling around her chest to secure it in place as they travel.

She gasps, soft and surprised as she turns to Naruto, catching the mischievous wag of a foxtail. In their time together, short as it's been, she has never seen it even once. But there he is, crouching next to her, his clothes sticking to his body, hair wild and wet and his foxtail waggling behind him, orange and bright.

"You have a tail!" She reaches and touches it, dragging her palm down the length of it and curling the floofy white tip around her finger.

Naruto emits something like a purr and a growl, digging his claws into the dirt and shuddering.

"I keep it under my coat," he rasps, snatching it back from her touch and dropping it onto his lap. "It grabs attention."

"It is gorgeous," Sakura compliments.

"Well, I'm a gorgeous fox," Naruto replies, waggling his eyebrows at her, sharp teeth out in a wide grin.

Ino snorts.

"Do not flatter yourself so much, beast," she says, grimacing at a wet strand of hair.

"Someone's gotta do it! I ain't seen no foxy lady in days— _weeks_!" He turns to Sakura, winks a big blue eye and adds, "Sakura's a beaut but you smell funny."

" _Pardon_?!" Sakura's cheeks grow hot, eye wide.

"Not like that… s'just…. Your scent's sorta familiar. Can't really tell why but that usually means you got—"

"Why are you wet, mongrel?" Ino intervenes, rolling her pupiless eyes.

"Fishin'," Naruto replies. "Good catch."

"And where _are_ these fishes?" Sakura asks, cautiously digging her nose into the collar of her shirt and inhaling.

"Sasuke's got 'em." Naruto shoves a clawed thumb in the air, behind his shoulder. "I would'a ate 'em."

"Raw?"

"…Heh…"

After a second, Naruto's eyes open up wide as if realization has sparked inside him. He scurries away, bent in a way that has him running with both his legs and hands, as if he were truly a fox.

They have been traveling for five days now, covering as much ground as possible during the day and enchanting the trees at night, keeping watch as the shadows creep and lurk and hunger to cross Sai's poisoned lines but entirely unable.

During this time, she's watched her companions; Naruto skips ahead of them, jumping from thick branch to thick branch before the trees can even think about snatching him up. He returns, sometimes running on all fours, sometimes jumping back the way he went.

Ino keeps to the back, her eyes observing the greenery, daring it to try and move closer.

Sasuke moves with resolution. His lean frame stiff and straight, his eye on the distance, his mouth set into a frown. He walks with Sai, both sometimes murmuring to each other but oftentimes remaining quiet.

They are a mixed combination, she thinks… But they've blended. They've made this work and Sakura thinks she's glad Sasuke kept her from leaving, that night in front of Ino's burnt hut.

Sakura subconsciously moves to caress her axe again at the mere thought of his name. She stares at the weapon without really seeing, fingers the blade, a curve to her lips and heat on her cheekbones.

"Do you know how to use it?" Ino asks, cutting into her thoughts and willing her back to the present.

Sakura pulls away and turns to her friend, blinking her green eyes in confusion. Ino tilts her head, her lips twitching into a smirk, eyes slowly turning to the side before returning to her.

"The axe, seedling. Do you know how to use it?"

"Well… no," Sakura confesses, biting at her lower lip and staring at the softly swaying grass. "I assumed that in a fight I would—"

"Get yourself killed." Ino furrows her brow. "May I?" she asks, her hands rising up, fingers laced in the way they'd been when she transferred her being into Shiho.

Sakura tenses, feels her heartbeat vibrate and pulse in her temple. It s not fear she feels, she decides. At least, not towards Ino. She feels unsure at the action. Curious of the unknown just as much as it terrifies her in any other circumstance.

Will she feel Ino's presence inside her? Will they be able to speak within her head, like two consciences inside one single person?

At her hesitation, Ino begins to lower her hands, cheeks pink as if she has realized what she has asked.

"Pardon," she mutters, turning away, both ignoring Naruto as he comes and goes with twigs and branches for a fire.

"Wait…" Sakura exhales through her parted lips, soft and quiet. "I trust you. I was just… wondering—"

"I will filter my knowledge, brief as it is, of how to use such a weapon. It will… imprint, let's say, into your thoughts. Muscle memory. As if you have always known."

"That… That can be done?"

Ino grins at her, looking younger and mischievous, as if her porcelain, immaculate appearance preserves that well enough to make it disappear. Then, she lifts her hands up again and Sakura's thoughts are no longer hers.

.

The rain has stopped, at least for now. Despite this, the sky remains gray and cloudy, fog thin as it curls around the hips, like a slithering snake.

It is cold and Sasuke feels weak despite himself. A white puff appears in front of his face with every exhale and his skin has turned lukewarm when so normally he is scorching hot to the touch.

He walks back into their makeshift camp with Sai at his side, both watching the trees, the small shadows that appear early at this hour as the sun continues to be blocked by rain clouds.

In his hand, resting against his shoulder, he carries a thin but sturdy branch, holding the fishes Naruto's caught. He mildly wonders if the mongrel has readied a spot for him to start a fire.

This is when the camp itself comes into view, with it, the rest of his group. Naruto has, in fact, built a fire to be set aflame but it goes on unnoticed to Sasuke as he abruptly stops and stares at Sakura.

She stands to one side, crouched in a battle stance with her hands on the axe's handle. His keen eye observes the motion, the positions—she's gripped it so that she can easily drop her second hand as the first, holding the majority weight of the axe, curves into a swinging attack.

He, subconsciously as it is, unabashedly stares at the slight swell of muscle at her movement. Forgets to blink as she drops back into a stance.

"Well…" Sai murmurs but Sasuke briefly turns his attention to Ino as she inhales and reanimates, blinking her eyes.

Sasuke turns back to Sakura, the twist to her upper body, the swing of her axe.

Most facts about the Untouched go by without a second thought from the magic bearers. The most that is talked about is of their slow aging, their long lasting lives.

No one speaks about their immense strength, able to carry, hold, propel and wrench things even the strongest creature of these lands can't fathom to.

Strength that, perhaps, rivaled that of the giants. But the giants have gone entirely extinct.

Sakura laughs as she stops her training, drops her stance and her axe and begins to turn round. She pauses when she catches him, her green eye wide and her smile faltering, twitching to remain in place.

Sasuke feels the burning hot return to the tips of his ears for a fleeting moment. He looks away, lifting his unoccupied hand to run his fingers through his hair, adjust his black eye-patch—anything.

"When," she begins and Sasuke, like the others, turns his attention to her. She's lifted the axe off the ground again, holding it as if it were a sword, pointing the very edge of the weapon in his direction like pointing a finger. "When the Seven attack once more, I will… I will not need saving."

His lips twitch, a crooked smirk stretching across his face as he scoffs and moves further into the camp. "So it seems."

There is still hesitance in her words, in her every action. What is it, he wonders, that's cornered her into a shell? A prisoner in her own body.

"Fish need scalin'," Naruto says, snatching the branch from his grip.

"If you—"

"I ain't gonna eat 'em!" Naruto shoves his chin in the air. "Ladies are present."

Sasuke snorts, turns back to Sakura. She's carefully set the axe against a tree, letting the enchanted vine wrap around the handle. She turns away but not in his direction.

He watches her walk towards the Mindwalker, lower his eyelash as thoughts from the attack filter back in. If he were alone, he'd press his palm to his chest where he'd felt a burn like no other.

Sharp and dull. His heart tightening, wrenching.

Sasuke looks at Sakura one last time before he moves to help Naruto with the fish.

.

"—An' _that's_ when I realized."

"Realized what?" Sakura asks, her eye wide, fingers still picking at the bits of meat in between the fish's bone.

"She wanted m'tail," Naruto stresses, his blue eyes on her. Bits of fish meat pepper his cheeks but he does nothing to clean it, rather, he sucks at one of his claws. "Then, _Sai_ over here, the traitor, devised a plan and _I_ was the bait."

"You are always the bait," says Sasuke, rolling his eye.

"Well I ain't like it! I need'a feel sure an' protected! Not… not shoved into the dragon's mouth—which _has happened_!"

"It has not," Sai scoffs. "We have not been to the far north where the Dragons dwell, you fibber."

Naruto huffs.

"So a couple of golden suns and silvered moons is worth putting your lives at risk?" Ino asks, tilting her head and looking at them from under her dirty blond lashes.

"Do not look down on us commoners, Mindwalker," Sasuke sneers but he keeps his eye on the fire, small and feeble as it is with this weather. "We must earn a living; it is something that, perhaps, you have lost touch with in your hut and forest."

"Hmm." Ino smiles, head inclined. "My hut and forest that have burnt down, you mean, Fire Breather?"

"Exactly so."

"I have a question," Sakura intervenes, turning her bright green eye from Sasuke to Ino and back. She makes to set her meal down but then pauses, considers, and offers it to Naruto's awaiting hands. "Th-the green… The forests. The plants. The grass… The shadows… everything... Why does it try to kill and eat… people?"

All four of her companions stare at her. They are not looks filled with accusation or pity at her lack of understanding the Land of Six Paths. No race really mingles with one another, at least, not when it comes down to the Untouched. They keep to their archipelago, never traveling to their neighboring continent.

"Because," Ino begins, "When the sorcerers Indra and Ashura fought and destroyed one another, their bodies did not hold their magic any longer. It spread through the lands, sucked into the ground where it rooted itself in the growing plants and trees."

Yes, Sakura remembers the story Ino told her, right before the start of this quest. She didn't consider that the magic of the two brothers brought trees to life, grass to attempt to keep you in place…

Perhaps that which should not be alive, lives with darkness in their intentions.

"Trees don't eat people where you're from, Sak'ra?" Naruto asks, a piece of fishbone in between his sharp teeth.

"Trees do not live in Uzushiogakure," Sakura tells them. "They grow tall—taller than even these trees here. But they do not live."

"Sounds weird," Naruto says, his nose scrunched up.

This makes Sakura laugh. Of course something as normal as the lack of living trees will sound weird! Of all things!

The mere thought of home makes her heart pang with sorrow. She's been so invested in the here, in the present, with these new and peculiar people that she has forgotten of her own.

The ones she has forsaken.

Sakura's smile sobers up and she lowers her attention to the ground. The others continue to taunt one another and Naruto yearns for a tankard of lager one time too many.

Abruptly, she stands up, paying no mind to the way the conversation of her companions has stopped, all eyes on her. She closes her own and shakes her head, trying for a smile but working up a grimace instead.

"Pardon," she whispers. "I think… I need a bit of space. I will return—"

She does not finish her sentence, merely whirls around and scurries off, ignoring the others. Ignoring Ino. Ignoring _Sasuke_.

She only slows down when she's sure she's put enough distance between herself and the camp. She has to concentrate and thank the gray day's minor lighting for helping in catching the Ink Sai has spread on the ground.

Had she stepped over it… She thinks of Shiho's corpse and shudders.

One thought over the other filters in her mind, each one much more heavy and negative than the last. There is a hurricane of anger inside her; a fragile encase of self-loathing and pity. Fear, but fear isn't new at all.

How dare she consider moving on after what she's done? Enjoying her company, concentrating on a quest that has nothing to do with her.

What about all those that she's gotten killed? Burnt by the Black Flames…

Sakura pauses her thoughts, her arms crossed in her attempts to hug herself. The Black Flames… Sasuke is after it too, is he not? Or at least he has some business with it… He probably wishes to meet with the summoner of the Flames that have destroyed the villages.

 _Her_.

Except she feels like an usurper. These powers cannot possibly be hers—if Black Flames have any relation to the Fire Breathers… She should not be able to summon them. She does _not_ want to summon them.

Still, she can't… She can't tell Sasuke.

He'll demand answers she does not have.

This is all an enormous mist—

Sakura gasps as something wraps around her elbow, her eye growing wide and fear, like adrenaline, shoots up and down her veins.

"Do not," she hears, near her ear, "wander into the woods."

"Sasuke," she breathes, her shoulders relaxing. To her horror, she almost melts in his touch. He loosens his grip enough to allow her to turn around. She does and she almost freezes again at his close proximity. "Pardon, I…"

"Is something wrong, Untouched?" he asks, letting go of her elbow and taking a step back. She already misses his warmth, weak as it is under the cold and foggy weather.

Sakura sighs and closes her eye, looks away and subconsciously rubs where he'd touched her. "Speaking of home made me homesick."

Sasuke does not say a thing, as if waiting for anything else she might say. She bites the inside of her cheek, angry at the hot tears that sting her eye. She wills them away.

"B-but… I cannot go back…" Her voice cracks and she purses her lips. She takes a shaky breath and looks at him. "I cannot go back no matter how much I wish it."

"Why not?" he asks, voice low, tone smooth and like something soft.

"Because there is nothing to go back to… It… It is gone. Uzushiogakure is gone. Everyone... my family, my friends… they are all dead."

Despite herself, despite the space she knows there should be between them, she free falls forward, arms wrapping around his middle and her cheek pressed against his chest, the leather harness digging into her cheekbone.

Sasuke is frozen in her arms and Sakura does not cry. But there is an overwhelming feeling inside her, ready to burst.

The Black Flames.

The murders she has unwillingly committed.

Sasuke.

How fast and how deep he's clouded her heart. His words, how he appears, how he feels far gentler towards her than he is to the others, than he is to the world in its entirety. The axe he's crafted with her in mind.

His presence right here, right now.

Sakura digs her nails into his thin shirt, into his skin. She feels his movements, the heavy placement of his hand to the back of her head. Sakura digs her nails deeper.

.

The Snake people do not exist.

Technically speaking.

The cult was eradicated years ago, the founder, his teacher, Orochimaru, sacrificing his Serpent soul to their god.

Kabuto is the only Snake worshipper alive; if living in seclusion, in the background, hidden, can even be considered living.

His people were taken out by the Fire Breathers, before their timely end. Burnt where those of the Snake. The Black Flames Orochimaru had so obsessively sought out. The Flames that he assured his followers were needed to convert, be one with their Serpent god. For only these flames were strong enough to burn their fake skin and allow their white scales to grow in its place.

So much for that.

Now Kabuto researches that what his teacher worked on behind the scenes. Immortality. The ability to have all magic. Fire. Ink. The brute strength of the Tamers. The ability to own bodies like the Mindwalkers.

Anything.

Everything.

Yet here he is now, receiving fools returning from a failed mission. A mission that is not any of his business but forced upon him by a being far greater than him. For now.

The man with the red eyes. He has a slithering suspicion of his identity but not much is known about this man to confirm his guess.

Still, Kabuto is no fool and he will oblige him for now until he's learnt enough, until he's gathered enough resources for his goal.

This, unfortunately, includes dealing with the Seven.

A band of mercenaries ready to kill without question so long as there is golden suns and silver moons to be paid with. A witch, a giant and a pair of white demons. Men from the far west, bred to kill and have no second thought about it.

Ruthless bunch… Yet they can't seem to get the job done, easy as it is. Honestly! How hard can it be to kill a couple of no names?

Kabuto smiles at them, fake from corner to corner.

"You lot seem to have returned quite early," he mocks, lifting a hand up to adjust his glasses. "I trust you have taken care of your job?"

"No," Mangetsu answers, hands at his hips and his massive sword still strapped to his back. "We have not. I am sure you already know that so quit the formalities."

Kabuto's smile is thin and wide, like a snake's.

"The Fire Breather was there," Karin explains. "He is far stronger than anticipated."

Suigetsu snorts, crossing his arms over his chest and shifting his and his sword's weight to one leg. "You only say that 'cause you fought 'im, Karin. You ain't that strong."

"Hm," Karin hums, fluttering her red lashes. "I remember you saying something entirely different. Do you remember? I can describe it to you, if you would like."

Suigetsu scoffs and looks away.

Kabuto watches the interaction, turning to look out the window every so often. Unlike his other little home, this one has a window. Even if the window is there for lack of dried and dead tree bark to put up for a wall.

The difficulties to live out in the forests, risking death by roots digging into his flesh, plants constricting his limbs. He sighs.

"The man will return any day now, you know," he tells them. "Something tells me he has set upon me the job to get rid of those he does not need. I have unloaded this on you. It is what I am _paying_ you for."

"Where's th' advance?" Suigetsu asks, his pale lips in a wide, crooked smirk, sharp teeth out and gleaming. He outstretches an awaiting hand and Kabuto stares at it.

Rolling his gray eyes, he produces a small bag made of burlap and tosses it at them. "Now get out of my sight and do not return until the job is done."

Suigetsu snickers, already turning around to lead the others out.

"Ah," Kabuto calls them. He leans back in his seat, stares at them. He does honestly wonder how he's gotten himself into this mess. "The man with red eyes used the term 'Little Flame'… See if that does any wonder to the Fire Breather. As the strongest and the main target, you _should_ aim to incapacitate him first."

When they leave, Kabuto smiles.

.

Their destination is a land of ashes. It smells of burning, like a fire has started and has not stopped in days, in weeks. In years. The land spreads before them is barren, houses thickly coated in moss and vine, engawas cracked and broken, falling into themselves and leaving splinters and broken rooftops in their place.

The ground is burnt, colored black and white from the unforgiving fire that once set havoc and the soot that has come to rest with the dead.

Sakura watches as Sasuke slowly moves deeper into the village, his back straight, shoulders rigid.

This… Was this his home?

Sai and Naruto flank him, both uncharacteristically quiet. Even Ino mentions not a word as she moves; her head dipped low and her hair shielding her grim expression.

How long has it been since he's left this place?

What tortured thoughts run through his mind as he walks further in, unknowing if he's stepped upon a dead family or friend, what the fire left behind eaten by time.

Sakura feels a restlessness inside her and she wishes to claw her chest open to let it out.

They do not stop until they go up a small swell in the ground, like a soft, small little hill with a large, expansive old-fashioned house that, once upon a time, was beautiful.

Sasuke freezes at the foot of the small hill and he stares, with an unreadable expression, his messy hair damp from the gray weather. But Sakura knows a look like that. It is one that she knows she wears when she thinks of home. When thoughts of Mother and Father and Lady Tsunade and the Slugs come filtering in without any obstacle to distract her.

That is a look of the rawest form of sorrow, of yearning, of uselessness.

It drizzles and none of them make a move to follow when Sasuke walks up the walkway, up the creaky and unstable engawa and stops right at the broken, sliding doors.

This… this was his house.

He lived here.

Sasuke… he played here. Grew here.

This is what was taken from him and this is all that is left. All that was given back.

Sakura lowers her head and hugs herself.

They all mourn what they did not know and did not have a tie to. But they mourn because a death is a death and respect is all that can be given to the dead.

It is here, in their distraction, in the turmoil that forms around them like the eye of the storm, that it happens.

In a blink of an eye, days and weeks after the attack in the village where Shiho betrayed them. Here, in the quiet, dead home of the Fire Breathers that are no more. Here, where Sasuke is at his most vulnerable.

Here, where there is nothing any longer yet so much for him to lose.

"Little Flame, Little Flame," someone sings. "Come out, come out wherever you are!"

There is a new kind of stiffness to Sasuke's body. Stuck like glue where he stands and only drops to his knees by the immense confusion and the trick of emotion that something's triggered in him.

Sakura reaches a hand towards him, as if that alone can shield him as the earth rumbles and the orange-haired giant from days and nights before drops down in the space between them and Sasuke's home.

She screams his name.

..

 **notes:** you would think that with these daily updates i was pumping them out as they were posted. nay, these were all written from july up to late october and posted on my tumblr. cross-posting them here in hopes to get inspiration to _finish_ when i'm already so close. in other words, this is the last fully written chapter. the other one is not even halfway, despite its massive amount of word count. so. here's to hoping i get my ass to it.


	7. The Defining Decade (Part I)

**7**

..

(THEN)

The silence is too much to bear.

Sasuke moves without taking note of it. He is seven and he runs with the gait of an excited child. In his hands, he carries the tantō he's forged on his own, bumpy and blunt with inexperience. His Fire is still not strong enough for such a feat, still riddled with smog and sparks that hold no threat and no power.

He'll show Father and Brother and even Mother, he thinks, skipping through the trees and laughing at the branches that reach and try to capture him. This one, he thinks, looking down at his clumsy weapon… This one has got to be the best one he's made in all his attempts to prove that, like Brother, he too is a genius beyond his years.

He snickers at this, nose crinkled, and leaves caressing his shoulder armor. His robes rustle as do the bushes and grass, eerie in the thick silence.

For a second, Sasuke stops and looks around. But he is a boy, a path of a warrior carved for him but still too young to attempt to walk it. His abilities are not sharp enough, his mind still sheltered by a blanket of naivety.

He picks up his run, grinning as he spins his tantō in his hand.

The Flames hiss when he steps in through the gates of his village. Sasuke pauses and stares at the houses being burnt down, his expression blank and his thoughts lost. Slowly, he turns his mismatched eyes to an uncle, to an aunt lying on the ground, face down with a flower of the blackest Fire eating them, devouring their flesh, melting it right off the bones.

There is an immense heat, a thick cloud of smoke circling at the center of the village, dispersing like mist, like fog, holding hostage the stench of burning.

Sasuke blinks his eyes, takes a cautious step forward. And another. And another until he's both willingly and unwillingly moving down the quiet, empty streets, curling into himself with every crackle the Black Flames pop in his direction.

Like they are furious at his presence. Like they wish nothing else but to eat him as they have eaten his kin. Greedy—this Fire is greedy. It lusts for destruction—Sasuke jumps as the top half of a house gives in and crumbles down into itself.

Sasuke tries to breathe in through his parted lips, letting it all out as smoke through his nose. He wants to move forward, look for someone… anyone… M-maybe they can explain what's happened.

Who has attacked?

But it is too quiet. Something tells him no one is around to tell him anything. There is nothing here but the sick sizzle of these Black Flames destroying his home.

Father says the Black Flames are— _Father_.

Sasuke stumbles over a body that's turned into nothing but bones and he yelps a bit, lets himself drop onto his bottom because any other option has him touching the… the corpse.

Is it a corpse?

He moves away from it, away from the Flame that tries to touch him. He clumsily rises to his feet and he runs.

He no longer stops to look at the houses that fall apart. He no longer stares and tries to put a face to a burning body. He no longer disturbingly observes the way flesh melts over bone, rips apart, falls apart, turns someone into nothing.

Sasuke runs.

He turns through the streets and cries out when he feels the Fire touch him, feels the phantom pain where he's been burned. But there is no burning.

The Black Fire is loyal, Father has said. It will do its summoner's bidding and nothing else. Not a single lick of Flame out of line.

Sobbing, Sasuke runs up the small hill to the house that's built to stand above all other houses. So Father can look out to his clan of Fire Breathers. Watch them. Keep them in line.

Father is the strongest Fire Breather and because of this he is the Leader. As his sister had been. As their father had been. As _his_ father had been as Sasuke's brother, Itachi, will be.

Sasuke jumps up the steps of the engawa and grabs the handle of the front door.

He chokes as he tries to breathe.

Father is inside. With Mother and Brother. Perhaps healing themselves. A-and trying to think of a plan to counterattack. To be attacked like this… at home. Their own home.

Sasuke clenches his eyes shut.

This is Fire.

Fire is of the Fire Breathers. The only ones strong enough to manipulate it. People made of Flames. Descendants of… Of…

Sasuke chokes and slides the door open.

He is a boy of seven. The youngest in his clan, even the youngest of all the children. He is the Little Flame and as he quietly, cautiously, nervously, hesitantly moves inside his house, he swears he hears the name being whispered.

 _Little Flame._

 _Little Flame._

 _Little Flame_.

There is a truth that he is avoiding. Intentionally, subconsciously, protectively. Something terrible has happened and it involves no one but the Breathers. It's something thick, heavy, sticky, contagious.

Sasuke enters the dark, quiet hallway that leads to the bedrooms. Even now, as he stares, wide eyed, his mind slowly begins to build thick walls, where all he has seen will go, shoved away, put away.

To protect himself.

It is too hot. Sasuke's hair sticks to his forehead, to the back of his neck, to his cheeks. The heat only begins to grow the further down the hall he moves. As if here, too, Fire lives.

He pauses in front of his room on the right, still slid shut as he'd left it in the morning. Sasuke swallows, shallowly breathing through his parted lips. He slides it open, stares at the darkly dimmed room.

His bed is neat and made, not a pillow unfluffed. It is neat, too neat. Mother has been here and picked up his other set of shoulder armor, has taken his basket of dirty laundry.

Then…

He turns away and moves to the room at the very end of the hall, slid half-open to show just a sliver of the dark room inside. The bit of hope and comfort that'd begun to form inside Sasuke, letting the fire in the center of his chest bloom stronger, suddenly vanishes.

Fear and discomfort takes its place.

It weighs heavily, dropping from his throat, where it'd lodged itself, and down to his stomach, rippling like a stone falling into a river, sinking all the way down until he feels as if he'll vomit.

Despite this, he moves closer. Slowly; each step hesitant. He hears the crackle of flames, feels the stuffy heat. For all his attempts to take forever to reach the door, he's quickly found himself standing in front of it, a hand hovering.

"M-Mother…?"

He closes his eyes, relishes in the stinging sensation.

Maybe they're not there. Maybe they've already begun to try to find a way to end this reign of Flames… Sasuke yanks the door open, sliding it open so hard, it slams against the frame and reverberates back towards him.

His tantō clatters to the ground. He hadn't remembered he still held it, carried it as if it would protect him. It's the best one he's made in all his attempts.

He can't show it to Mother or Father.

Mother and Father lie atop each other, Black Fire devouring them.

Eating them. Like a vicious beast and his parents its prey.

Sasuke stands frozen in place. Suddenly, he's sprouted roots, long and curled, keeping him there, at the entrance of the room, the sole witness of Mother and Father's demise.

He does not blink. His mismatched eyes stare at the skeletal half of Father's face, where the skin and the flesh have burnt and melted off. He won't tell him stories of old anymore, will he? He won't sit with him at the steps, watching sparks and harmless flames zig-zag down the streets, the glint of armor and weapons.

Mother lies beneath him, her hair caught on fire, her dark eyes staring right back at him. Her mouth is opened, dead words building a cemetery on her cupid's bow. Something she'd intended to say, never to be said, a gatekeeper.

The Black Flames grow, opening like a blooming flower, intensifying its cruel intentions, its unbearable heat.

Sasuke stares at Mother.

He swears he hears: _Little Flame… Little Flame… My little jewel._

The silence is too much to bear.

He drops to his knees.

.

(NOW)

" _No_!"

If there are any explanations as to how Sakura has run the distance between herself and Sasuke, she ignores them. Lost is all logic as she bends her knees, twists her upper body to block the blade that's aimed to Sasuke's distracted back.

She stumbles a bit, but she grits her teeth and holds her ground. Her grip on the handle of her axe is knuckle-white. The skin of her palms sweat and pinch against the bone her weapon's made of. Sakura curls into herself for a moment, sucks in air and then pushes herself back up, like a spring, pushing the weight of Suigetsu off her and shoving him back.

She does not know where this strength comes from. Desperation, perhaps, but Sakura knows that desperation brings forth other results. Tragic results. Muddy thoughts and sluggish movements.

This is something else and, right now, Sakura does not care.

She glares at the wicked man in front of her, green eye wild with something new, something other than fear and confusion. Something like fury. Something like a dare—come, her heavy stare messages, come and try me.

She is a whirlwind. A tornado. A volcano.

She is a natural phenomenon; inside her is a disaster that can split the land in half. She is afraid, is furious, is defensive, is hesitant, is aggressive and despite all uncertainty she is ready to attack.

Her heart rams against her breastbone, vibrates down to the pit of her stomach, like a ripple, like an earthquake. She grips her axe harder.

"Sasuke," she says, fights the urge to turn to look at him from over her shoulder. Her left eye pulses. "Sasuke, you have to focus. Come back. Wherever you are, _come back._ "

There is no reaction, no movement.

Sakura takes quiet, shaky breaths through her parted lips, forcing herself to focus, blinking the blurs out of the edges of her vision. Her left eye throbs, itches. Her emotions are chaos and it's making her bad eye react.

If she isn't careful, if she doesn't center herself, she'll release the Black Fire and everything will burn. Sasuke's home, these enemies, these companions, Sasuke. And any trust that's built between them.

She grits her teeth, tightens her hold on her axe.

"Heh," Suigetsu scoffs. "We don't see each other for a couple a'days and you suddenly gots a weapon, Untouched? Color me impressed."

Sakura braces herself, swallows the gasp when Suigetsu moves. Or rather, he disappears from where he stands and materializes seconds later, running towards her, lifting the enormous butcher's sword up in the air, preparing to swing.

Grunting, Sakura continues to stand her ground. She impedes Suigetsu's attack, twisting around with the tips of her boots and swinging her axe. She lets out a sharp cry as she strikes.

Suigetsu curses as he skids away, arching his back outwardly and watching the sharp swing of the axe pass him by.

"Oh ho ho, Sevens," he mutters, his grin wide and sharp and his teeth sharper. "This is definitely gonna be good."

Sakura does not give him the pleasure in receiving a reply. Instead, she moves and lets her body tense and twist, performing offensive moves that she does not remember learning but her body seeming to know so passionately.

Despite the melting pot of feelings inside her, she let's her instinct—much more different than the first time—lead her.

But Suigetsu is a true expert swordsman and he meets all her blows with a defense far stronger than Sakura ever hopes to be.

Still, she swings at him, twisting on the toes of her boots and spinning on her heels. It is a battle of defense—who will manage to land a strike first?

Around her, the others are no different. Naruto pounces on Juugo, his eyes a fierce orange and the aura surrounding him like a bubbling wall. Sai sprints across the lands, dripping poisonous Ink, skin cracked with black lightning. Karin pierces him with her needle sword. Or she tries to. He jumps into the air, summoning Ink and manipulating it into a staff, digging it into the ground, killing it like its patrons from long ago, and safely getting himself out of the way.

Ino appears in Sakura's line of vision. Her pale hair translucent as it dances around her like a cape, the markings on her skin darkening, expression broken from its passive indifference and taken over by a fury they all feel.

Sakura sucks in air when a strike from Suigetsu just about manages to get to her. Restlessness spikes up inside her, finding it harder and harder to keep up with him when her own abilities are so limited.

"Sasuke," she calls again, stealing a chance to glance at him.

He kneels at the entrance of his old house, hands keeping his upper body upright. She can't see his expression but he must be in so much pain. Restless, like she feels, afraid, like she feels, enraged, like she feels and filled with so much sorrow, like she is.

"Yer savior ain't comin', Untouched," Suigetsu taunts and twists his upper body to give momentum to his enormous sword as he swings it to cut her in half.

Sakura doesn't think she can escape this one.

She's too close to the blade. Even if she tries to drop and roll away, to fling herself to the side, it's going to get her and the damage would be just as bad.

"Oh, Katsuyu," she whispers, gripping the handle of her axe tight, bringing it close. Like comfort. She clenches her eye shut, waits for the blow.

How will she know when she's died?

There is a massive roar and an inexplicably scorching heat that should affect her, burn her, dehydrate her, threaten to kill her even if she is not the target. But it does not.

Gasping, she opens her eyes in time to watch Sasuke lunge at Suigetsu.

.

His heart accelerates inside his chest. Fear, fury, sorrow and defeat flood inside him like waves crashing at a harbor and he is swimming back. It's dizzying. Every single one of these emotions come in, assault him, in mere seconds when he'd felt nothing but a numbing sensation before.

It's too much, it's too hard, but he keeps challenging the tides of his emotions.

Memories he has buried deep within the darkest corner of his mind, so far away from where he is, now, as a person, he's having difficulty remembering. Is this real? Is this true?

Of course it is.

Mother and Father died in this very house, in this very village. Black Fire ate them, left nothing behind for him to even mourn.

But… Then… Why have the Flames extinguished?

Is the person burning villages down now really… The same person that killed his people? Sasuke had considered it—no, Sasuke _knew_. But there had been such a thick part of him, buried right at the center of his very being that was convinced the people are separate.

The Flames in the dying village had all but purred in his direction. Had wanted his attention. The ones from years ago wanted to kill him. Pounce on him and keep him pinned to the ground. Eat his skin right off his bones and then eat those as well.

"Sasuke!"

It is the most helpless and desperate he has ever heard his name be called out. Sasuke's movements are sluggish as he pushes back to crouch on his haunches, a hand against his forehead, his eye on the dusty, rotting floorboards of his old home's engawa.

He sways as he stands to his feet, thigh muscles twitching at the effort to lift his slothful upper body. He listens to the sound of a fight. Of war. The song his people once sang.

Swords clash and sing against each other. The grunts and groans from the efforts of combat. The smack of limbs being hit.

"Yer savior ain't comin', Untouched."

Sasuke turns around and stares, blankly, as Suigetsu swings his massive sword with the intentions to split Sakura in half. His attention lands and stays on Sakura, clutching her axe close as she realizes no move she's learnt will help her now.

Fear spikes inside him. Dread is the fuzzy after feeling that digs into the very marrow of his bones.

"Oh, Katsuyu…"

This is when he runs. Slow at first but when he leaps off the engawa, he is suddenly sprinting the distance between himself and Sakura's vulnerable body. He bends his body at an angle and summons Fire from the cauldron that bubbles and burns at the center of him.

He watches Suigetsu grow distracted, his pale-white arm drooping at an odd angle, the weight of his blade grabbing his attention. This is where Sasuke lunges and grunts when he smacks against Suigetsu, sending them both reeling back.

The sword clanks to the ground, violent and loud. Sasuke rolls off Suigetsu and moves to a crouch. All senses of a warrior open and the Fire inside him blazes in fury. Defensively, offensively. Possessively.

Suigetsu kneels and shakes his head to rid himself of his stupor. Seconds later, he makes to reach for his sword, diving on the ground and all but crawling the remaining distance.

This is when Sakura drops her axe and nearly misses the Demon's wrists.

"You will not," she tells him, her green eye dark and acidic with determination.

But Suigetsu grins. Wide, lecherous and slow like an ocean's wave. "Oh? S'gonna be a double team, eh?"

"Sakura," Sasuke states. He stands to his feet, rolling his shoulders as a means to adjust his shoulder armor. A thin kind of smoke lifts from his skin, dancing up and disappearing the second it's too far away from his body. "Leave."

"No." She looks at him with defiance. New, on her, but so ancient as if it were to belong there. As if the mask of fear, confusion and defeat has been commandeering in its place. "I will fight with you."

Sasuke feels a bubble of magma float up his throat and he exhales it as dark, black smog through his parted lips. It is like the first time, in the forest. Sasuke almost fears that he will lose control of his Fire again and pass out.

But he shakes the thought off. Concentrating, instead, on the heat of his flames and how his flesh burns from it.

His eye stares into Sakura's.

Around them, the others continue to fight; running and jumping and throwing as much hits as they receive. Sasuke inclines his head once and Sakura pulls her axe back from the ground, holds it in both her hands and gets in position.

So this is her true nature. This woman right here, both afraid and not all at once. Volatile; an oxymoron, feeling one thing at the same time as its opposite.

She twists on the toes of her boots just as Suigetsu dives for the hilt of his butcher's sword just as Sasuke wills Flames up his throat.

They freeze, caught in a three-way deadlock.

Sasuke lets smog hiss out through his clenched teeth, Sakura readies her axe and Suigetsu shifts his violet eyes from him to her and back, his blade posed and ready to strike.

He isn't surprised when Sakura becomes his target and Sasuke runs in their direction. He watches as Sakura stands her ground and swings her axe to meet Suigetsu's attack.

"Duck," he instructs, liquid fire dripping from the corner of his lips.

Sakura bends her knees and drops down low just as Fire roars out of Sasuke's mouth. Suigetsu curses as he dives away, cursing more when not all of him manages to escape.

Sasuke grabs Sakura's forearm and pulls her towards him just as Mangetsu's enormous wrapped blade lands where she'd stood mere seconds before.

Sasuke hums as his chest vibrates and the boiling magma inside him intensifies. Sakura's skin on his is scorching, so much so that it cools where she touches him.

"Sevens," Mangetsu sneers. "Get the job done, little brother—"

Sasuke's vision pulses.

"—you've fought more menacing opponents."

"Oh sure," Suigetsu gasps, standing back on unsteady feet. "Ya say that so lightly coz ya ain't the one fightin' the Breather and his ladyfriend."

 _Little brother_ …

This means something. It meant something, long ago… When moss did not reign over these burnt houses and these desolate lands. When children in robes of violet and blue ran the streets, sparks hissing out their mouths and laughter soon after.

Little brother… It is something he'd been, once.

Something he'd been called… Little Flame… Little brother…

Itachi had been seven years older than him. His hair long and tied at the base of his neck, his skin tanned and his eyes dark and framed by long lashes. He'd been quiet, serious. A promising Breather; a genius that mastered his Flames at such a tender age, summoned Fire the size of a full grown adult's if not bigger, stronger, far more threatening.

Sasuke had loved his brother and his brother had loved him.

He never learnt what became of him that day, when Uncle and Aunt and… and Mother and Father and everyone else burnt at the mercy of the Black Fire.

And he buried all these memories so far away, so deep down… The person he'd been there, the person he'd been destined to be had died just as his people did that day. The person that wandered out the burning village, unsteady, disoriented as he'd been… he was a new version. Reborn.

A new person; unrecognizable. A ghost.

He'd wandered for days, for nights. Sasuke has lived for years since those times and he has not a single inkling of how he survived, how he evaded trees and vines and shadows. Where he went or how he arrived where he did.

He'd been a wandering shell. A ghost with no conscious.

"Come back."

Sasuke blinks.

A hand is on his cheek, so hot, burning, scorching, so much so it cancels out and cools his skin. He looks at Sakura's green eye. "Wherever you are, come back."


End file.
